


Until I Saw Your Face

by potentiality_26



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Light Bondage (in one scene), Light dom/sub undertones, M/M, Minor Character Death, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 103,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7923151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentiality_26/pseuds/potentiality_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry offered the first figure that came into his head. Judging from the way the boy's eyes widened, it was far too high.</i>
</p><p><i>He said, “I know a place,” a little too quickly. “Let me just…” He took out his phone and fired off several texts in quick succession. “One of my stepdad’s mates works in a- a hotel real close to here.” From his stutter, Harry guessed that it wasn’t a very high class establishment- but then if Harry had wanted high class he would have sought it out himself. Somewhere where they had seen everything, where they looked the other way without question- that was what Harry needed at the moment, and his knowledge of such areas in London was unfortunately lacking.</i> </p><p>Harry just needs somewhere to lay low and patch himself up.  He isn't expecting to meet someone who fascinates him, or to run into that someone again and again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an H/C bingo straight line extra for "disappearing", "secret allies", "wild card" (prostitution), "fighting" and "touch-starved".
> 
> Not Brit-picked. (Or very well researched. Sorry.)

Harry Hart was in trouble.

He was in London; theoretically this sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen, not on his home ground. But ‘theoretically’ did nothing to remove the bullet lodged in his arm (which would teach him to take his jacket off in public ever again), or to repair his glasses (broken in a fight with the six- perhaps five, now, if the shots Harry had managed to get off had done their work- men who were trying to kill him). It did nothing to change the fact that Harry’s current situation- bleeding and breathless and _confused_ , damn it- had just gone from bad to worse. He was in the wrong part of the city.

Oh, Harry wasn’t worried about getting mugged- the local criminal element was small potatoes compared to what was behind him- but it was still… inconvenient. The instincts that had kept Harry alive in countless firefights over the years had kicked in after he was attacked, and they had brought him to a place where he could do a great many things- but none of them were _fit in_.

 _Or not_ , Harry thought as he collided with a man in a three-piece suit headed in the opposite direction. The suit was ill-fitted, though only someone who had spent as much time in a tailor’s shop as Harry had would probably notice. The man was pasty-faced and wide-eyed, less than pleased to have been seen, even by a stranger. Harry turned the corner and realized why.

A couple of young men were huddled around a lamp post, their reasons for loitering immediately obvious. Though all of them straightened up when they saw Harry, only one was bold enough to approach.

He took Harry by the lapels. “Looking for some fun, gorgeous?”

Harry looked down and right into eyes that gleamed with intelligence and what looked like good humor. They were strangely compelling, those eyes, and they drew Harry in. They dried up his mouth and seemed to stop… everything. For a moment, the sharp pain lancing through Harry’s shoulder faded, and his frantic calculations- about how far behind him his pursuers were, what they wanted, and what they were willing to do to get it- stuttered to a halt.

The light was dim, only enough for Harry to see that the young man the eyes belonged to had a slightly crooked grin that was very welcoming. Harry knew that he wasn’t easy to see either. His unusual paleness and the sweat he could feel sliding down his temples and the back of his neck probably weren’t too clear, or at least easily explained away by the circumstances. Harry was sure that the bulky overcoat he had pulled on over his jacket after being shot (stolen from a coat rack- he would have to get Merlin to pay for it once he managed to make contact with him again- and of a much lower quality than anything Harry actually owned) hid the fact that he had been in a firefight well enough for now.

Perhaps blending in wasn’t so impossible after all. Harry said, “I could be.” He sounded like his throat had a wood rasp inside it, and he was still struggling to breathe evenly- but that probably didn’t seem too unusual either, now that Harry thought about it.

The boy leaned closer, those eyes going soft. “What d’you like?”

He had a sweet voice, and Harry found himself unusually tempted to lose himself in it- but he couldn’t afford to. Slowly, the ambient sounds of the city (no pursuing footfalls, not yet, that was good) reasserted themselves, and Harry distinctly picked up wet sucking noises and flesh slapping against flesh in the alley behind him. Grunting. Panting. The occasional, _Yeah, give it to me_.

Harry had seen far too much to be bothered by such things, but he allowed a look of prudish distaste to cross his face anyway. “I like _privacy_ ,” he said. Somewhere out of the way where he could regroup and check his injuries- that was what Harry needed, and if this was an unusual way to get it… well, Harry wouldn’t question what the universe had provided.

“Don’t got a car?”

“No.” The light from the streetlamp fell across the boy’s face as he chewed on his lower lip. Harry found the affect rather fetching, and he wondered if the boy did it out of habit or by design. It certainly drew attention to how smooth and lush it was. Harry had no doubt the gesture had reduced men to wheedling in the past. “You don’t know of… somewhere nearby?” Harry pressed, carefully. “Anywhere?”

“If I did leave with you, it’d be extra.”

Harry offered the first figure that came into his head. Judging from the way the boy's eyes widened, it was far too high.

He said, “I know a place,” a little too quickly. “Let me just…” He took out his phone and fired off several texts in quick succession. “One of my stepdad’s mates works in a- a hotel real close to here.” From his stutter, Harry guessed that it wasn’t a very high class establishment- but then if Harry had wanted high class he would have sought it out himself. Somewhere where they had seen everything, where they looked the other way without question- that was what Harry needed at the moment, and his knowledge of such areas in London was unfortunately lacking.  “He don’t normally rent rooms to me, but if you…”

Harry made a sound of agreement and kept his thoughts to himself otherwise. The artless almost-babbling, the tiny hint at the boy’s personal life- it was all so very… charming. Harry considered that, and the possibility (high, in his estimation) that there would be men waiting to rob him at the promised location.

He decided to cross that bridge when he came to it.

The boy pocketed his phone. “C’mon,” he said, jerking his head down the street. Harry obeyed, letting his fingers trail along the sharp line of the boy’s hip as they started moving. He was so warm, and headed in the same direction Harry had been. _Good._ That at least was good.

As the boy had promised, their destination wasn’t far. The building was dark, with an aspect both garish and battered, sandwiched between two other buildings as if it might be pushed right out of existence at any moment. Harry scanned his surroundings- looking for the men who had started all this, and for anyone else whose attention he might have drawn since he arrived- until he turned and saw the boy holding the door for him. The boy was chewing his lip again and his eyes kept darting from Harry to all the possible avenues of escape, as if he was afraid that Harry might change his mind at any moment.

Harry wasn’t sure what to do, how to behave, what the current vernacular for, _yes I am still interested in paying you an outrageously large sum of money to take me up to a hotel room with you_ was, but he only had to keep this up for a few minutes longer; it would be such a waste of an opportunity to spook the boy now.

So Harry leaned close and let his mouth run over the shell of the boy’s ear. He heard a long exhale- relief, perhaps- and nosed down the boy’s sharp jaw, inhaling. He smelled cheap shampoo and washing powder. If Harry was surprised at himself when he pressed a kiss to the boy’s chin, he was more surprised still when he lifted his head and the boy caught his mouth. He tasted of mint- _chewing gum? Mouthwash?_ Harry wondered only briefly before the shock of being kissed shorted his thoughts out altogether.

The dismal fact was that Harry hadn’t been touched- so intimately, or at all- in a long time. For a second, the sensations of it- being this close to another person again after so long- were overwhelming. But in the second after that, training took over. This boy wasn’t the only one who knew how to seduce, and Harry needed to put on a good show.

That was how he explained it to himself, at any rate- the way he sank into the kiss. He was dimly aware of his hands- one of which had his own drying blood on it, for Christ’s sake- cupping the boy’s face. He was aware, too, of moving forward through the door, and of the boy backing up obligingly into the lobby right up until he collided with a wall. Beyond that, there was nothing but how the boy’s mouth was as plush as it looked, how he kissed wet and sloppy and lacking finesse in all the right ways. Harry ran his tongue over the boy’s lower lip and sucked on it gently.

The boy groaned- yet another surprise- and his hands ran across Harry’s chest and towards his sides.

Harry gripped him by the wrists, pinning his hands on either side of his head against the wall. “Privacy,” he reminded him. It wouldn’t do for the boy to find the gun holstered underneath his arm, after all.

“Yeah,” the boy agreed breathlessly.

Harry looked at him, pinned like a butterfly under his hands, and admitted to himself how much he wanted this boy. The hotel was as out of repair inside as it was out, and against the backdrop of chipped paint and flickering light the boy looked impossibly beautiful, and older than he had before. Not old enough for Harry to feel good about having these thoughts, but at least out of his teens, twenty or twenty-one, certainly- and the eyes, the eyes that had captured Harry from the first, they certainly looked old, and they gleamed with things Harry couldn’t quite fathom. “What do I call you?” Harry asked, because however much longer they were to be in one another’s company, it suddenly felt very important to have a name.

The boy blinked then, surprised, and seemed to weigh his answer for a moment before he said, “Gary. I’m Gary.”

Gary strained very slightly against Harry’s hands, tilting his chin up and parting his lips. Asking for another kiss. _Yeah, give it to me_ , Harry remembered hearing from the alleyway. He pushed the memory aside. He was only playing along, after all; he couldn’t afford to get caught up in the moment.

“Fucking hell, you weren’t lying,” someone said.

Gary twisted under Harry’s hands and Harry let him go, backing off quickly- though not quickly enough to miss the way Gary’s pulse sped up beneath his fingers. They both turned in the direction of the voice, and Harry saw a wholly unremarkable-looking man wearing oversized jeans, his jaw hanging slack as he stood on the stairs.

“No,” Harry’s boy- _no_ , not his boy, Gary- said. “I wasn’t.”

Harry took the moment Gary spent glaring at the man to glance around at the dingy lobby, annoyed with himself for having failed to take stock of it thus far. There was an unoccupied desk to one side of the room. Harry could only assume that this man was usually the one behind it; Harry supposed it was best not to wonder what had taken him away from it.

“All right, all right,” the man was saying as he took his place behind the desk. “Cash up front,” he told Harry, giving him a rather slimy grin. “Couple of hours, yeah?”

“He’s all night, bruv, and then some,” Gary replied, and the man’s lip curled, his gaze darting from Harry to Gary and back to Harry again, as if he couldn’t imagine why Harry would be willing to pay such a sum.

“Don’t have unlimited space, you know,” the man said. “What if-”

Gary rolled his eyes. “Not my problem, is it? Unless you wanna explain to Dean why my mum lost the flat while he was locked up because I couldn’t-”

Harry decided to bring that exchange to an end, handing over the money the man expected and then some. He was curious- more curious than he could afford to be- but his arm was beginning to hurt again and he needed to move things along. “That should cover any ‘what ifs’,” he said.

Again the man's eyes snapped from Harry to Gary and back again. He put up his hands. “Yeah, all right. Fucking whatever.”

The man threw something at Gary- a key- and Gary caught it with surprisingly keen reflexes. “Come on, then,” he said to Harry, suddenly all warm eyes again. He jerked his head toward the stairs and made his way up them.

Harry followed him, and he let himself touch all the way up the stairs and down the hall. He ran his thumb over that soft lower lip. His fingers trailed over a cheekbone and into short, soft hair. He didn’t let himself kiss, but the tiny breathless noises that Gary made every time Harry avoided his lips were somehow more dangerous to Harry’s control than a kiss would probably have been. Gary pressed up against him, too thin but also too perfect, and Harry counted the seconds until they found the right door.

Eventually they did, and Gary let them into a small room. It was dark, but between the light that streamed in through the window and his own good sense of these things, Harry could tell that they were alone.

Gary turned around and slipped the chain, and Harry breathed a little easier. So. For Gary this was just a regular job, not a robbery.

Gary reached for the light switch and Harry caught his hand. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Gary said, “Okay,” and took a step forward, his breath warm on Harry’s face, his fingers still tightly wound around Harry’s own. “Where were we then?” he asked, his voice growing stronger and more seductive with every word. “What d’you like?”

Harry kept himself very still. His body wasn’t as unruly as it once was, and even when he was a young man Harry had had very good control over it. He _wanted_ , and for a moment he let himself want. Let himself imagine pushing Gary against the nearest available surface- the rickety table by the window didn’t look up to the task, but the wall actually seemed promising and, of course, even rooms like this one had beds- and telling him in perfect, excruciating detail all the ways he could and would spend every second of the time he was paying for taking Gary apart.

He imagined, and then he let it go. He dropped Gary’s hand and took a step back. “What I would like is for you to fetch some alcohol, please. Can you do that?”

In the semi-darkness, he could see Gary blink. He hesitated once more before he said, “Yeah?” It sounded like a question. “I’d have to go back out for it, though. Not too far, I guess- Poodle’s probably got some.”

“Excellent,” Harry said as evenly as he could.

He was a little surprised, still, when Gary obeyed without further protest, disappearing back out the door. The moment he was gone, Harry let out a long breath. He felt so tired now that he was alone- sorer, achier, _older_.

Still, Harry made himself move, crossing to the window. It afforded him an excellent view of the street, and he could sit at the table with his back fitted firmly against the wall if he only moved the chair a little bit. _Perfect_. Harry shrugged out of his stolen coat and hung it around the chair. He took off his jacket, too, and stowed his shoulder holsters in the large pockets of the coat. He hid one of the guns in the pocket as well and placed the other on the table, covering it with his jacket so that it would be to hand but not readily obvious. He didn’t want to scare Gary any more than he needed to. He stripped out of his bloodied shirt and tossed it aside.

From the lining of his jacket Harry retrieved his emergency first aid kit- containing tweezers, a needle and thread, gauze, and other necessaries- and set it on the table as well. He also produced his wallet, counting out the money he had promised Gary. He placed it on the other side of the table, as far from his chosen seat as the table would accommodate. He wanted Gary to have to come to him to get it- that way, he was most likely to still get his alcohol- but he didn’t want him to feel overly trapped or threatened. Gary was welcome to run once their transaction was at an end, unless he planned to bring back some friends or perhaps the police. Harry didn’t think he would, though; Gary had already proven himself trustworthy, insofar as that went, and the police most likely weren’t his friends any more than they were Harry’s.

He did wonder, absently, whether Gary was meeting any resistance from the man downstairs. Harry decided that if it proved dangerous to him he would find out as a matter of course. Otherwise, it wasn’t his business.

Harry crossed to the bathroom, washing his hands and rinsing the crusted blood off his shoulder so he could get a better look at the injury. His makeshift wrapping had almost stopped the bleeding, and the wound itself actually didn’t look too bad. Harry was reluctant to glance up into the mirror, but as he retrieved a towel- and washed it by hand for good measure- he did catch his own reflection. He looked as sore and tired and old as he felt. It made him wonder what Gary thought when he looked at him- and suspect that it wasn’t at all complimentary.

Harry sighed and returned to the table. There he set about threading the needle (or trying to, he abruptly became aware that the arm attached to the shoulder in question was shaking violently)- and that was how Gary found him.

“Fucking hell,” Gary said. He stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Harry, for longer than Harry would have expected him to. Harry considered how he must look, stripped down to an A-shirt and far more muscular than he had probably appeared in that bulky overcoat- not to mention bleeding sluggishly from a bullet wound and scarred from many others in years past.

Harry looked at Gary in turn. He noticed that Gary had brought a fresh bottle of gin rather than rubbing alcohol- which made sense now that Harry thought about it. Gary’s eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. Harry wanted to kiss into it. He flexed his shoulder; once he allowed himself to fully acknowledge it, the pain of the bullet wound was considerable and it tamped down on Harry’s lust quite admirably.

“Guess you ain’t actually in this for the pleasure of my company,” Gary said at last.

“No,” Harry replied evenly. He jerked his chin toward the table. “But the money’s yours. I keep my promises.”

Gary shut the door- something else Harry hadn't expected- and crossed to the table, placing the bottle in front of Harry before he reached for the cash. “Haven't earned this,” he remarked as he leafed through it.

Harry dabbed at his shoulder with the towel he’d cleaned off, biting back a hiss. “If I can rely on you keeping your mouth shut and not talking to the police, you absolutely have.”

Gary looked skeptical.

Harry took a plug of the gin- cheap, _disgusting_ , and utterly appropriate- before pouring some of it onto his shoulder. A searing pain exploded across it, setting off fireworks behind Harry’s eyes. “You’re free to go,” he told Gary. He knew this wasn’t pretty and it was only going to get less so. He forced his eyes open, and he looked hard at Gary. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I believe you,” Gary said, and there was the strangest gravity in his voice. He took the money, but he didn’t leave either. He crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw. “I’m staying.”

Harry stared at him for a moment more, then barked out a laugh. “All right,” he said. “Go and wash your hands.”

Gary obeyed and returned. Harry passed him the needle and thread. “Can you disinfect and thread this?”

“Yeah, bruv,” Gary said, and took it.

Once he was satisfied that Gary was doing as instructed, Harry took up the tweezers. Removing a bullet one-handed wasn’t exactly easy, but this wouldn’t be the first time Harry had done it and he doubted that it would be the last.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Gary wince in sympathy. “Does that hurt?”

“A great deal,” Harry admitted through gritted teeth.

"Right. Stupid question."

Harry set the bullet on the table, breathing hard, and slumped back in his chair for a moment, looking out the window. Still nothing of note.

“What are you looking for?” Gary asked.

“There are men trying to kill me. I don’t know if they’ve managed to pursue me this far or if they can find me again- but I don’t know how they found me in the first place either.” Harry shrugged, which proved to be painful mistake.

“Are you like James Bond or something?”

“Or something,” Harry replied.

Gary rolled his eyes at the half-answer and passed Harry the needle, wincing again when Harry applied it. “Should you really be doing that?” he asked. “I bet I could-”

“No.” Harry took a breath and softened his voice. “It’s no reflection on you. It’s better if I do this kind of thing myself, that’s all.” Harry tolerated pain well, he really did- but he was also conditioned to attack anyone who was causing him it. He actually trusted this boy to a degree that surprised him, but he wasn’t going to let Gary tie him up just to safely do something that Harry could do himself with a reasonable degree of proficiency, and the stitches only had to last until Harry got out of this mess and reported in. “As I said, I keep my promises.”

Harry meant, _I would lash out at you, even if I told myself not to. I might hurt you._ He wasn’t sure Gary would understand, and he was a little surprised when Gary nodded seriously as though he did. “There anything I _can_ do?”

“Keep your eye on the window,” Harry said. “And…” He hesitated. “Talk to me.”

Gary stood and crossed to the window, leaning against it and looking out. “What about?”

“Anything you like.”

“Dunno,” Gary said uncertainly. “I…”

Harry did hiss that time, and he wanted very much to take his mind off what he was doing. “How did you come to… do what you do, then?” he asked. “Tell me that.”

“What kind of question is that?” Gary sounded like he was deciding whether to be offended or not, and leaning toward _yes_.

“The kind I have to ask when I know nothing else about you,” Harry pointed out. He knew that Gary’s lip curled when he mentioned his stepfather, and that the stepfather’s friend didn’t appear to have much respect for Gary, but neither of those things actually solidified into real knowledge of who he _was_. Obviously there was more to Gary than what he did, but Harry knew so little about his personal life. Probably Gary would want to keep it that way, so it was all he had.

“Right,” Gary said, flushing a little. “You’re right. We need the money, is all.”

“We?” Harry prompted, keeping his voice gentle so that Gary wouldn't feel he had to respond to the question.

“My mum and me. She’s got a baby on the way.”

Harry made a noise of acknowledgement. No mention of the stepfather, he noticed. But then Gary had said he was locked up, hadn’t he? Assuming Harry was right to guess that Dean and the stepfather were one and the same, yes. Harry didn’t push for more information. It wasn’t his business.

“Gonna get her something real nice after this,” Gary volunteered. The warmth and pride in his voice effected Harry in ways that- attracted to Gary or not- amazed him. He wanted Gary to sound like that all the time.

“Do you know what yet?”

“Not yet. Any suggestions? It’s your money.”

Harry laughed, a little breathlessly. He was almost done; for some reason, that was always the worst part. “No idea,” he said. He supposed one personal confidence deserved another- and it was strangely easy to tell Gary things he never told anyone, so he said: “Do you know, my mother was on her own too?”

“Yeah? She marry a dickhead later on?” _And there’s the stepfather after all._

“No, she died.” It was the truth, although not all of it. Harry might have had a few swallows of the gin, but he would have to be very drunk indeed to tell that story.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry.” And Harry could see that Gary really meant it.

“Don’t be, it was a long time ago. My point, I suppose, is that it’s been a long time since I… had a family. But I’m sure you should be proud of what you do for yours, whatever it is.”

“I am,” Gary said.

“Good,” Harry replied, finishing his stitches and snapping the thread with his teeth. He noticed Gary’s eyes following him and held them briefly, then said, “The window, if you please.”

Gary blinked and looked out sharply. “Yeah, bruv,” he said. “Don’t see nothing.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said. He took a moment to recover and then returned his own attention to the street below. “Now, I’ll be needing a phone.”

Gary blinked. "You don't have one?"

Harry shook his head. It was foolish, he supposed, to rely so much on Kingsman's more advanced technology that in an emergency he didn't have something anyone on the street would.

Gary pulled a mobile out of his pocket and offered it to Harry.

“A landline would be better,” Harry told him. He _could_ use Gary's, certainly, and Merlin would most likely be able to cover their tracks well enough that Gary would never get any deeper into this mess than he was already- but it was worth trying to limit his involvement.

“Dunno if this place has got one.”

Harry glanced around and indeed saw no trace of a phone. Harry sighed. “All right,” he said, and took the one Gary offered. “Thank you.” He called in to the shop, giving the code for his current situation- disconnected from base, injured, pursued- and hanging up. Now it was all a question of whether his fellow Kingsman agents or the people who were currently trying to kill him would find him first. “Have a seat, Gary,” he said as he watched Gary fidget.

Gary sat. “What do we do now?”

“ _I_ wait,” Harry told him. “You should go home.”

Immediately Gary shook his head. “Bad idea. If Poodle sees me leaving he might… get the wrong impression.”

Harry wasn’t sure what exactly the wrong impression would be. He decided not to ask. “I’d almost forgotten,” he said instead. “You’re booked for the evening.” Something about the way Gary flushed made Harry think there was more to it than Gary had said, but once again he didn’t push for an explanation. Gary could have any number of reasons to prefer not to go home, and Harry was obviously more than paying for his time. However grisly the evening was turning out, this could well have been the easiest money Gary had ever made.

Harry spent a little time considering what he’d seen of the building, weighing the likelihood of those men attacking here or there if they found him first. He was surprised by how quickly Gary fell silent- until he looked up and saw that he had fallen asleep. Harry, who hadn’t fallen asleep in the same room with another person in a very long time, marveled at the trust involved. Surely someone like Gary would be very nearly as conditioned against such a thing as a spy.

Gary looked vulnerable in sleep, mouth half-open, face soft, thick eyelashes spread across his cheek. Harry wanted to touch the curve of his neck and brush his lips over Gary’s eyelids, but he didn’t move.

He went back to looking out the window.

Now and then Harry would see someone passing on the street, consider them and eventually conclude that they weren’t one of his attackers. Several minutes went by before Harry finally saw someone that he recognized from earlier. The way he was looking around suggested that the man was alone, just scouting in this direction. He thought Harry might be holed up in the hotel, but he wasn’t sure. That ruled out the possibility that there was a tracker inside Harry, or something similarly far-fetched and unpleasant. He doubted that they had only stumbled on him by chance today though- there were too many of them and they were too well prepared.

He took his gun and rose, unable to resist brushing his fingers across Gary’s cheek as he went. Gary didn’t wake. Harry picked up the key Gary had left by the door and headed outside.

Harry had forgotten just how cool the night was, and he was grateful for the bite on the air; it brought him back to himself. It was easy to come up behind the man, gripping his neck. Harry didn’t even need the gun, the cool pressure of his ring against the man’s throat stilled him. “Do you know what that is?” he asked, his finger twitching slightly.

The man nodded.

“If you keep very still and answer my questions, I won’t use it. Who do you work for?”

“His name’s Granby, but I’m not- I’m just a merc- I’m not-”

“Loyal?” Harry suggested. “That’s just as well.” It wasn’t unexpected, to be sure. Granby had always had more money than charisma, and he was in a foreign prison at the moment thanks to Harry. “How did you find me?” he asked. He needed to know.

“We had somebody watching that tea shop you use. It was the only thing he knew about your interests that actually checked out.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He would have to find a new tea shop, then. How very inconvenient. He was just about to speak again when shots rang out. “It appears your friends have joined us,” Harry remarked. “I’m sorry about this.” The man started struggling in his grip and Harry activated the ring. On the right setting, it kept the man still and stiff as a board for several moments, making a passable shield.

Harry dropped low and fired back. Whoever was shooting hit the ground, and the man he shot instead of Harry did the same a moment later. “Two down,” Harry murmured. He stayed on alert as he crossed to the man he'd just shot and took his pulse- dead- and then stole his mobile. The dead man had recently been in contact with two other men, one of whom mentioned a third man- also dead, Harry _had_ killed one of them earlier after all- in his texts. That left just one more unaccounted for.

Harry didn’t see anyone else. He made his way back inside. The man at the front desk- Poodle, had Gary called him?- had apparently napped through the whole thing, but there was no guarantee that no one else had called the police. Silencers or no, Harry would think someone had heard something.

When Harry got back to the room, Gary was still asleep in the chair.

Returning to his post, Harry took another swig of gin and let him sleep.

Not too long after that, Harry heard a soft knock. He opened the door a crack and saw Kay on the other side. Harry let him in. “Did you run into any trouble?” he asked.

Kay snorted. “Just yours,” he said. He was a slender man, red-headed and not overly handsome, with hooded eyes and a mouth well-suited to telegraphing how very inconvenienced he felt he’d been, which was exactly what he was doing right then. “I was shot at.” He sounded affronted, as if that had never happened to him before.

“And is the shooter well?” Harry asked politely.

“No, in fact.”

“Then there’s probably only one of them left.” Harry checked his ammunition, feeling Kay’s eyes on him. Like Lancelot and a few of their other agents, Kay avoided wearing the glasses if he could help it, which meant that for once Harry didn’t feel like it was actually Merlin glaring at him.

“You can’t go after him.” Kay sounded firm. “I’m meant to take you in and finish this myself. Are you going to fight me?”

Harry kept silent just long enough to make Kay worry about himself, then said, “Of course not.” Staying up all night wasn’t as easy for Harry as it once was- and that was when he hadn’t been shot. _I’m getting too old for this_ , Harry thought. That brought him back to Gary, who was still slumped back in his chair. It was strange that he would have slept through Kay’s arrival, not to mention all the shooting. Harry wondered if he was faking.

All the same, Harry got on his knees next to his chair and touched Gary’s arm as gently as he could, watching Gary’s eyes come sluggishly open. “Hey,” Gary said thickly.

“Hello,” Harry replied, leaning a little closer and resting his hands on the chair’s arms.

“S'happening?”

“It’s almost dawn,” Harry said.

Gary continued blinking at him for a moment, and then he sat up sharply. “I fell asleep,” he said, as if surprised at himself.

“Clearly you needed it.” Harry backed off, but then braced Gary’s elbow as he stood up unsteadily. Harry imagined it, he was sure, that when he did Gary leaned into his touch a little more than was strictly necessary. “Where can I drop you?” he asked.

“Where you found me, I suppose,” Gary said.

Harry nodded, and since Gary didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get away from him, he let his hand linger on Gary’s arm as he steered him past Kay and towards the door. Gary paused sleepily. “What about all your- um- medical supplies?”

“People will take care of it,” Harry informed him. “The owners of this… establishment will never know what really happened here.”

“Okay,” Gary murmured.

Harry didn’t know which other agents had already arrived, but the bodies downstairs were already gone. He opened the door to Kay’s car and gestured for Gary to climb in first. Gary did so and Harry followed after him, settling against his shoulder. Gary seemed to radiate heat. “What I said about keeping what you saw today a secret…” Harry started. Kay was watching them in the mirror, and Harry could tell that he was quite willing to load Gary up with amnesia darts if he needed to.

“Already done, bruv,” Gary said. “Wouldn’t nobody believe me anyway.”

Amused in spite of himself, Harry smiled but said, “Even so.”

“Won’t tell a soul, swear down.”

“All right,” Harry agreed. It didn't take them long to get back to the street corner where Harry first encountered Gary, which seemed like a year ago suddenly. Harry was still smiling a little when they arrived. Most of the other boys were gone, but one or two lingered.

“That’s me, yeah?” Gary said. He opened the door and climbed out.

“Gary,” Harry said. There was something in Gary’s face when he stopped and turned around that Harry couldn’t quite read, but for a second it robbed him of his voice. He just reached out, Gary’s mobile in hand, and offered it back to him. When Gary hadn’t asked for it back, Harry had thought very seriously about keeping it, just for the excuse to track Gary down later, but he knew that that wouldn’t be a very good idea. It was an indulgence that he couldn’t afford, and so he refused to flirt with it.

“Oh,” Gary said, and took it. But then he lingered, and Harry was aware of the few boys still on the corner watching the car.

“Yes?” he asked gently.

“I was wondering- what do I call you?”

“Call me?” Harry was startled; it was such an odd question for Gary to ask when they both knew perfectly well that it was a bit late for introductions.

“Yeah.” Gary scuffed his toe on the sidewalk. “Like for my diary and shit. Can’t just call you James Bond now can I?”

Harry swallowed. “Call me Harry,” he said at last.

“Harry.” Gary made it sound like the most interesting name in the world. He nodded a few times and pocketed his phone. A moment later he was gone, melting into one of the alleyways as if he’d never been there at all.

Harry slumped forward in his seat. If he’d thought he was tired and sore before, he had been seriously mistaken. It was as if he had been holding himself together with energy he hadn’t known he possessed until Gary walked away.

He caught Kay watching him in the mirror above the dash. “The strangest things happen to you,” Kay said.

Harry made a noise, half agreement and half annoyance. Kay began the drive towards Kingsman HQ. Harry looked out the window and he didn’t see Gary, just strangers on a street corner. He doubted that he would ever see Gary again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry hadn’t seen Gary since he met him, more than a month ago by that time. He had told Merlin that he'd borrowed a young man’s mobile phone that night. He suspected Merlin had taken that to be a euphemism for theft, because he had remotely wiped any record of that phone call but otherwise let the matter lie._
> 
> _From his short examination, Harry could see that for Gary’s part little had changed since then. He was still lingering on the border of too thin, he was still attractive, and he was still so frightfully young. Harry had yet to completely stop thinking about him, or about his particular mix of vulnerability and cheek. It was already proving just as potent as it had been before, and Harry hadn’t even spoken to him._
> 
> _Yet._

The next time Harry met Gary, it was another coincidence, both of them in the wrong- or perhaps the _right_ \- place at the same time. 

Harry’s orders for this assignment were… vague at best.  He had been following a young man- rich, in his early twenties, and possessed of a great many vices- for several days at that point.  Between Merlin getting snippier and snippier over the comms and his own doubts about the importance this young man could possibly have in the larger scheme of things, Harry had formulated a private theory about the true nature of his mission.  He suspected that it was a personal favor Arthur was doing for some acquaintance of his, most likely a lord or someone otherwise wealthy and influential.  Whether the young man was a son, the prospective lover of a son (or a daughter, Harry supposed, although the evidence was primarily in favor of the young man being gay) or just a prospective lover, the ultimate goal was for someone- Harry- to discover the skeletons he had in his closet and allow Kingsman to- where possible- bury them.  Harry, who preferred to see his work as more noble than that, found it all somewhat sordid- but at the end of the day Harry was still a knight; he went where his king pointed him.

When Harry mentioned his theory to Merlin, he made the very particular noise that he often did when he was trying not to snort.  Perhaps Arthur was in the room with him.  Harry caught sight of himself in a reflective surface and winked. 

Merlin huffed at him, soft enough that only Harry would probably hear the sound.

In all the time Harry had been following the young man, his activities had been often morally dubious but rarely downright illegal, until today.  Today Harry had followed him into a… club, Harry supposed it was, in which he proceeded to partake of various banned substances.  Harry didn’t know what they were- it wasn’t his particular area of expertise- but judging from the reactions he picked up from Merlin’s end of things they weren’t the sort of habits anyone had hoped to see their ‘target’ indulging in.  Harry could _hear_ Arthur’s teeth grinding.  He had a feeling that life was about to get complicated- and dangerous- for this young man’s known associates.

He was in a circle of four, all men of roughly the same age, class and background.  Despite the club’s poor lighting, Harry had a good view of them from where he was seated at the bar, nursing a glass of scotch.  Harry himself looked only a little out of place; he wasn’t the oldest man in the club, though he was one of the few without a certain harried, hunted look to him.  Even the ones who weren’t taking any of the drugs had that same guilty aspect, and it took Harry only a few moments to figure out why.

Little packages of pills and powders were being passed around by young men who were practically poured into their clothes.  When enough money was exchanged they… lingered. 

 _Ah_ , Harry thought. 

It certainly sped Harry’s reading of the situation when he recognized one of the boys.  Instead of looking away immediately, Harry let his eyes stick briefly to the boy’s arse (which was well-formed, to be sure, and clad in a pair of jeans that left little to the imagination) before he drew them away.  Merlin and Arthur were both aware of Harry’s particular proclivities- and amused and disgusted by them respectively- and that little flash of interest would be taken as nothing more.  They wouldn’t look deeper.

Harry hadn’t seen Gary since he met him, more than a month ago by that time.  He had told Merlin that he'd borrowed a young man’s mobile phone that night.  He suspected Merlin had taken that to be a euphemism for theft, because he had remotely wiped any record of that phone call but otherwise let the matter lie. 

From his short examination, Harry could see that for Gary’s part little had changed since then.  He was still lingering on the border of too thin, he was still attractive, and he was still so frightfully young.  Harry had yet to completely stop thinking about him, or about his particular mix of vulnerability and cheek.  It was already proving just as potent as it had been before, and Harry hadn’t even spoken to him.

Yet.

Harry had had to promise Kay a number of favors to secure his silence on the subject of Gary, but looking at Gary now Harry forgot to regret them.  The odd sense of protectiveness he had felt the last time they were together returned right away, and Harry decided it was worth the price- or at least it would be if he could keep Gary off Kingsman’s radar this time as well.  

Knowing his voice would be muffled by the noise of the club, Harry addressed his audience back at base: “Have you seen all you need to see?  I’m going to start drawing attention soon.  So unless you’d like me to… occupy myself, I should-”  

It was Arthur who said, “You may _go_ , Galahad.”  He sounded positively scandalized.

Harry smirked as he made his way to the door.  He switched the recording mode on his glasses to send any further footage to his personal mainframe rather than Merlin’s.  That would infuriate the quartermaster, of course, but Arthur would be too pleased that the sanctity of his screens had not been polluted further to actually punish him for it.

Harry caught Gary by the wrist and was immediately reminded of how good he smelled even though his soap was cheap and his cologne was cheaper, and how warm and right he felt under Harry’s hands.

Gary stiffened, almost struggled, and then suddenly he settled back against Harry’s chest.  “Harry,” he said softly, and Harry wasn’t sure how he was meant to feel about the fact that Gary had recognized him without even looking at his face. 

For a second, Harry just inhaled.  He hadn’t held anyone in a long time when he was last with Gary, and the dry spell hadn’t ended since then.  His hands alighted of their own accord around Gary’s waist.  “You don’t want to be here,” he said once he’d caught his breath.

“Why’s that?”

Harry jerked his chin toward the cluster of young men he had been watching all night, giving Gary’s hip a light squeeze when his eyes fixed on the right one. 

“He in trouble?”

“His associates are most likely about to be.  I sincerely hope he didn’t pay you for more than whatever was in the bag you gave him.”

“He didn’t,” Gary said, sinking further into Harry’s hold.  Harry had the strongest urge to never let him go.  “But I was thinking about trying my luck again.”

Harry tightened his grip.  “Don’t.”

“I hear you,” Gary said.  “But I need the money.”

“I’ll give you the money,” Harry whispered without thinking about it twice, his mouth against Gary’s ear.

“What for?  You need a place to lie low while you reattach your own leg or something?”  Under the bravado, Harry could hear… something.  An emotion that Harry couldn’t identify, thick enough that it choked Gary halfway through.  He shuddered faintly under Harry’s hands, and Harry realized: Gary was considering the likelihood that Harry was, in fact, offering to pay him for… well, for what men usually paid him for.  Harry honestly couldn’t tell if Gary liked the idea very much or not at all.  The possibility affected him, whatever the reason.  His breath was coming short, and Harry’s own hadn’t yet evened out as much as he would have liked it to. 

“No,” Harry said.  “But I’m getting out of here and I’d like to get something to eat.”

“You wanna pay me to have dinner with you?”  Gary finally wriggled out of Harry’s grip, turning to stare at him.  He looked… not offended exactly, but there was something complicated in his expression that Harry hated being unable to read. 

“Yes,” Harry said.  “I hate to eat alone.”

Gary rolled his eyes, but after only a brief hesitation he nodded and left the club with Harry.

*   *   *

Gary was amused- not, Harry supposed, unreasonably- when Harry took him to a McDonalds.  Harry knew that with his full suit on he didn’t exactly look like the usual clientele of the restaurant in question (and Harry did hesitate to use the word restaurant), but though Harry had a taste for the finer things he was never impractical when it came to necessities like food.  He was hungry and it was late- so late it was technically early; McDonalds was the obvious choice. 

That amusement seemed to get Gary through ordering his meal- for which Harry paid, naturally- and inhaling it at a speed Harry would probably have chided him for if he didn’t suspect that Gary hadn't eaten in far too long.  It was only when he had finished his burger, drank half his soda, and started on his fries that Gary finally took in the way they were sitting at a table for two- Harry with his back to the wall and his eyes on the door as always, his jacket around the back of his chair and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his glasses in his pocket- and asked a question that had clearly been on his mind for a while:

“Why am I here?”

Harry chewed a bite of hamburger and swallowed it thoughtfully.  “That’s philosophical for two in the morning.”

Gary kicked him under the table. 

It wasn’t as though it actually hurt, but Harry still said, “Here now, do you normally attack paying customers?”

“Only if that’s what they ask for,” Gary replied with an exaggerated wink.  He took another drink and continued: “I mean- how come you brought me here?”

“Nowhere else is open at this hour.”

Gary gave him a Look and very deliberately nudged his foot again.  

Harry let out a long breath.  “Is it what I was doing at the club in the first place that you’re curious about, or why I decided to get you out of there?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well, I was there watching that young man.  As to what’s about to happen to him or his chosen circle, I know only as much as I already told you, but I suspect it won’t be good.  I got you out of there because I owe you.”

“You really don’t,” Gary told him.  “You paid me a lot more than what I did was worth.”

“Maybe,” Harry said agreeably, sipping his drink.  “But you did right by me and one good turn always deserves another.  Also, I genuinely dislike eating alone.”

Gary, looking appeased, dipped a fry in ketchup and ate it.  There was something enthralling about it the way he did it, methodical and unhurried now that he had enough food in his belly to care more about savoring his meal than just getting it inside him.

This was, Harry realized, the first time he had properly seen Gary.  The street corner, the darkened hotel room, Kay’s car before the sun came up, the club… his face had only ever been in shadow before.  If Harry had allowed himself to hope that his attraction to this _very_ young man wouldn’t survive examining him in strong light, he was sadly mistaken.  Gary looked lovely; his jaw line alone could probably have drawn sculptors from miles around and his eyes were as beautiful as Harry had thought they might be the last time he had seen him.  And his lips… Perhaps it was simply because he was eating- but _Christ_ , it was like he never closed his mouth, and the tantalizing bit of darkness between those lips made Harry wonder if Gary still tasted of mint. 

Gary caught him looking and smiled crookedly.

Harry smiled back and returned to his meal.  The silence that followed was a surprisingly easy one.  Though Harry really did prefer not to eat alone, he didn’t always like to talk and eat at the same time.  He marveled at what a restful dinner companion Gary had turned out to be.  They barely knew each other, and yet the warm quiet between them was closer to that of old friends.  

Occasionally Gary would send a curious look Harry’s way that gave the lie to that impression.  It was as if he was still trying to get the measure of Harry and didn’t yet know where to begin. 

Harry tolerated what awkwardness there was until he had finished eating.  He put his last bite of hamburger in his mouth, chewed and swallowed it, and then took a swig of soda to drown out the aftertaste.  Then he put the cup aside and said, “There’s something else you want to ask me.”

Gary shrugged.  “I wonder about what you do,” he said.  “But if you told me you’d have to kill me, right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.  I might have to make you forget you knew, though.”

Gary's eyes widened.  "No way!"  He shook his head.  "You can't do that."

Harry held Gary’s gaze for a beat, and then he laughed.  Probably Gary would conclude that he was laughing because he had been kidding rather than because he found Gary’s slack-jawed expression so charming.  “You’ve proven yourself trustworthy, after a fashion.”  Gary had kept his secret before, or Harry would have heard about it from Merlin, who had sent someone to the hotel and its surrounding environs to see if what happened that night was being discussed by anyone.  As far as Harry knew it wasn’t.

“But you’re not gonna tell me who you really are.”

“I’m not going to tell you who I really am.”

It was Gary’s turn to laugh.  Having exhausted all of his own fries, he stole one of Harry’s.  The look of mischief in his eyes was too refreshing for Harry to even think about telling him off for it.  Harry would feed him with his own hands to see him glow like that.  

Harry ate a few fries himself, but now that he was no longer hungry he thought they tasted disgusting.  He let his lip curl, then pushed them towards Gary, who hesitated.

“I also dislike not getting my money’s worth,” Harry said.  He nodded toward the fries, though he meant the meal and _not_ all at once.  “And I’d forgotten that I don’t actually like these much.  You’d be doing me a favor.”  Harry wondered if it would help if he told Gary that he enjoyed watching him eat.

Happily, he didn’t have to.  Gary frowned, but obediently took the fries.

“Thank you,” Harry said, taking a napkin to his fingers and finding it hugely unequal to the task of cleaning them.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go wash my hands.”

Harry rose and made for the washrooms, half expecting Gary to be gone by the time he came out.  _But no, he’ll have to stay_ , Harry thought a moment later.  _I haven’t paid him yet_.  It was actually rather trusting of him, in Harry’s opinion, to have assumed that Harry wouldn’t slip away while he was out there waiting.  Perhaps he was putting his faith in Harry nobility, or perhaps- somewhat more likely, to Harry’s mind- he was aware of how in thrall to him Harry was, that Harry couldn’t leave him without a word if he wanted to, and he didn’t want to, not at all.  Gary had said he needed the money and Harry believed it. 

 _Pull yourself together, Hart_ , Harry thought as he glared at his own reflection.  At times like these he could practically hear Merlin laughing at him, and he knew that if he had his glasses on and Merlin knew the whole story he would be able to hear Merlin _really_ laughing at him as well. 

Instead, it was quiet.  Harry washed his hands and splashed some cold water down the back of his neck.

When he headed back to the dining area, force of habit alone made Harry peer around the corner before he moved out into it.  For every dinner of Harry’s life that he had gone out for as a civilian, there were six more he had attended as a spy.  Some things were simply ingrained. 

Ingrained, too, was the way his fingers found his pistol the moment he saw that things were not as he left them.  Harry kept the gun in his hands, but he took a breath and remembered where he was and why.  He confirmed that he hadn’t been noticed yet and he made himself linger around the corner for a moment, assessing the situation.

The “situation” was three men, young, wearing oversized clothes and half-masks, and carrying knives.  Harry calculated that the likelihood that they had come here for him and decided to rob the till when they didn’t see him was slim.  In fact, it was almost certainly a coincidence that wouldn’t be helped by gunfire, so he put his pistol away and looked for Gary.  He was on his feet and talking to the only one of the three currently not menacing the girl behind the counter.  For a moment, Harry wondered if Gary knew that person, if they were perhaps even working together, but his hands were up and though he was obviously trying placate the thieves he did look frightened.  They weren’t friends, then.  This was just a robbery.  Random.  An unfortunate coincidence indeed.  Harry remembered what Kay said about the strange things that happened to him.  He laughed silently to himself and he walked out into the dining area.   

For a moment all three men were too surprised to see Harry stride out from around the corner to do anything.  Harry made the most of that moment by picking a napkin holder up off the first table he passed and throwing it at the man nearest the girl behind the counter.  She had struck Harry as half-asleep but not stupid, and she proved him right by immediately hitting the floor, depriving the thieves of their hostage.  Harry was pleased but not overly surprised.

He also kept one eye on Gary, and how _he_ reacted actually did surprise Harry a little.  The robber who had been brandishing a knife at Gary had turned his attention toward Harry instead, and while he was thus distracted Gary plowed the heel of his palm into the robber's face and started wrestling for his knife.

By that time, the third man had closed the distance between himself and Harry.  He had a knife of his own in hand and he was waving it in a manner that probably struck him as menacing but was, to Harry, hilarious.  Harry caught his wrist easily and twisted, prying the knife from his hand and overbalancing him the same time. 

The one who had taken the napkin holder to the head was still down, but his partners didn’t appear to care.  The one at Harry’s feet scrambled up and ran for the door.  The other, clutching the bloody nose Gary had given him, did the same.

Harry crossed to Gary first.  He was out of breath, but he had the knife in his hands and what looked suspiciously like exhilaration in his eyes.  Not only had he handled himself rather well during the incident, it looked like he had… enjoyed it?  Most extraordinary.  Harry caught him by the elbows.  “Are you all right?”

Gary was looking at Harry differently, somehow, when he said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Had he found what Harry did… compelling?  _Arousing_ , even?  Harry supposed it was possible.  If Gary was able to think such thoughts, he probably was indeed fine.  Harry looked him over all the same; in the rush of adrenaline, knife wounds could easily go unnoticed for too long.  Luckily, Harry’s examination revealed that Gary was unhurt.

Harry drew back and quickly fired off a text to Merlin, already calculating what he might have to do to secure his friend’s forgiveness for making him clean up this mess.

Then he crossed to the counter.  “Miss?”

He got a muffled cry in reply.  He leaned over the counter to look down at her.  She was pale but not injured and she gazed up at him with wide eyes.  He conjured what he hoped was a comforting smile before he hit her with an amnesia dart.  Then he pulled up the man lying on the floor and handcuffed him to a table. 

This done, Harry turned back to Gary and took him by the arm.  “Come along.”

Gary followed him out biddably enough, but once they were in the street his stunned look faded and he bit his lip, worry evidently setting in.  He kept looking back toward the building even as Harry rushed him down the sidewalk.

“She’s not hurt,” Harry promised him.  “It’ll just put her to sleep, and when she wakes she won’t even remember what happened.”

Gary made a noise.  “I know.  Not about the amnesia whatever-the-fuck, obviously- but I know you didn’t shoot her or anything just then.”

Harry caught himself wondering how Gary knew, or thought he knew, a thing like that. 

“Shouldn’t we… I dunno… call the cops?” Gary was saying.  “Leaving her with him like that don’t… it don’t feel right.  What if he wakes up and tries to hurt her?  What if she loses her job?”

“Someone is already on their way to remove him, wipe any camera footage and clear the place up.  She’ll wake as if she simply dozed off- not, I suspect, for the first time- and everything will appear as it ought to.”  Gary still looked uncertain and- also not for the first time- Harry added an addendum to what little he knew about Gary.  That he was calm in a crisis and well able to defend himself- and sincerely concerned about the job of a girl he had interacted with for about five seconds.  “She’ll be fine,” Harry assured him.  He realized that he had something to add to the list of things he knew about himself, too.  Gary could just as easily have taken Harry for the villain the last time they met, but he hadn’t.  He had believed.  Harry realized that he did not want to lose that now.  

“You’re sure?”

“Very.”  Harry reached out to squeeze Gary’s arm, and he could see in Gary’s eyes when he accepted Harry’s word.  It was only then that Harry also realized they had stopped walking and gotten very close to each other.  Under the light of the streetlamp they had paused under, Harry could count Gary’s eyelashes as they cast faint shadows across his golden cheek.  “Will you allow me to walk you home?” he asked softly, enjoying the warmth of Gary’s arm under his palm. 

Gary swallowed, slow and heavy.  Harry followed every second of it with his eyes.  Gary’s voice was gravelly when he said, “Yeah, okay.”

Harry smiled and- reluctantly- backed off. 

The walk- like the meal- was surprisingly easy.  Being near to Gary just felt so natural, and there was nothing awkward about the long silence that stretched between them as they walked until Gary finally asked, “So you really could make me forget meeting you or whatever?”

“I can’t now,” Harry replied.  “Not without making you forget too much time for it to go unnoticed.  But I could have, the first time.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I certainly considered it,” Harry lied.

Gary went still and eyed Harry sidelong.  It made Harry think that Gary could tell it wasn’t true.  It also made Harry think that perhaps Gary was forming a list of his own, one about Harry, and finding things to add to it. 

Harry stilled as well and let out a breath.  “Logically, if you had woken up in that hotel room with no memory of meeting me and taking me there, you would have gone digging.”

“Sure,” Gary said.

“You struck me as intelligent, so I thought that- whether you would have been able to learn anything dangerous or not- it would be better not to have you looking for me- what with my true identity being a secret and all.”

“Logical,” Gary agreed, beginning to sound amused.  Proving that Harry had been right earlier, he said, “You made all that up just now, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”  Harry’s lips curled upward even as he tried to fight it.

Gary laughed out loud, his eyes dancing.  “C’mon then.  How come?”     

“You told me that you would keep what you saw to yourself and I believed you.”  It was the truth- but Harry realized that there was actually more to it than he had registered at the time.  Though he had honestly believed he would never see Gary again, Harry hadn’t wanted Gary to forget him.  He hadn’t wanted to be the only one who knew they’d even met.  Just imagining it now left him cold and unsettled. 

But Gary seemed to accept the first answer; Harry was relieved and sorry for it in almost equal measure. 

“Okay, then,” Gary said.  “So about the guy in the club-”

Harry barked out a laugh.  He should have known his earlier ‘answers’ wouldn’t satisfy Gary.

Gary laughed a little too, and shrugged.  “I’m curious.  And all you said was that you wouldn’t tell me about _you_.  Does he have something to do with the people who were after you last time?”

Harry started walking again, considering his answer for a moment.  “No.  This assignment was at my… employer's request.  A favor, I suppose.  Unrelated.”

Gary looked thoughtful as he guided them down a side street.  “Did you figure out what their deal was?  The guys from before?”

Harry fell silent for another moment.  The mercenaries had been rounded up on the night in question, all loose ends but Granby had been tied up, and beyond Merlin saying that the incident should teach Harry not to tell his enemies any true information about himself, Kingsman considered the matter closed.  Harry, though, didn’t completely.  He thought that it might be nice- useful, even- to confide in someone about it.

“You trusted me before,” Gary reminded Harry, bumping his shoulder.  “Who am I gonna tell, anyway?”

Harry could think of no one, and Gary had been right before: this information didn't directly regard Kingsman or Harry.  And Gary seemed so… fascinated.  The light he’d had in his eyes after the confrontation with the thieves was back; Harry’s life probably looked so exciting to him.  Harry didn’t want to disappoint.  “They were working for a man I helped send to prison,” he said.  “Being locked away apparently didn’t keep him from sending people after me.”

“For revenge?”

Harry shrugged.  “So I was left to assume.  My cover was as a wealthy recluse who… shared his interests.”

“Did he want money from you or something?”

“No, actually he was quite wealthy himself.  I was to offer him a base of operations not tied to him in any way.  Of course, no sooner had he begun to utilize it than his plans went up in smoke- literally- and he and his friends were arrested.  He drew that connection.”

“How long ago did it all happen?”

“Several months.”

“Seems like a long time to pay those guys to be on the lookout for you.”

“Very good, Gary,” Harry said.  “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.  They were watching a tea shop that for all they knew I might not have even really used.  That is a lot of energy to expend on revenge alone, even for people like these.  I’ve been thinking it’s possible that I was wrong and they weren’t actively trying to kill me, or at least that their original orders were to take me alive.  Or perhaps they _were_ trying to kill me, but for some other reason.”

“Like what?”

“Something I saw in his plans, perhaps.  Something I know about him or one of his associates that I’m not remembering…”  Harry shook his head.  “I haven’t gotten any further than that."  He decided to put the subject aside.  “About the boys in the restaurant- do you think they could cause trouble for you?”

“Don’t think so,” Gary said as he steered them around a corner.  “I never seen them before.”  He bumped his shoulder against Harry’s again.  “You’re a real trouble magnet, ain’t you?”

Harry wasn’t sure he was the only one.  Gary had handled himself so well back there.  It made Harry wonder... too many things.  He kept his thoughts on that subject to himself.

Eventually Gary stopped walking.  “I live close by,” he told Harry, hesitating.  It seemed to have occurred to him for the first time that they were actually headed for his home- and now he was beginning to wonder if he really wanted Harry close to it.  He was probably also beginning to wonder if it even mattered if he kept Harry away, since it would be easy enough for Harry to figure out where he lived regardless.  He added, “It’s probably best if my mum don’t see you.”

“Fair enough,” Harry agreed easily.  He didn’t want to make Gary uncomfortable, or to cause trouble for his family.  Harry caught himself wondering about Gary’s mother, if she’d delivered her baby yet. 

As Harry shook off these thoughts, Gary lingered close to him.  It properly occurred to Harry how like a date it had all been.  True, the robbery had hardly been typical date fare, but Kay and Gary both were right about Harry; that was exactly the sort of thing that would probably happen on any date Harry went on.  Harry found himself reaching for Gary before he had consciously thought about it.  

He looked at Gary, the inside of his mouth almost painfully dry, and thought about kissing him goodnight.  He thought about whether Gary would kiss him back as he had before, or push him away.  It was undeniable that Gary had flirted with him tonight and given him speculative looks- but that didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted anything to come of it.  For that matter, even if Gary did kiss him back, Harry would never know beyond doubt that it was what Gary wanted.  And, in truth, Harry didn’t completely know what he himself wanted.  Perhaps if they had met under different circumstances Harry would be more sure of his footing.  Perhaps he would be able to… then again, perhaps not.  If casual encounters had ever come easily to him, Harry wouldn’t be so starved for physical affection now, and Gary probably wouldn’t affect him quite so strongly.  Ultimately, Harry ended up with his fingertips just trailing awkwardly along Gary’s sleeve until he withdrew entirely.

It was a few moments more before Gary finally seemed to accept that whatever might have been about to happen between them wasn’t going to happen anymore.  He cleared his throat.  “Well, uh-” he said, backing off too.  “G’night then.” 

“Gary,” Harry said quietly after Gary had turned away.

“Yeah?”  Just like before, in Kay’s car, there was a light in Gary’s eyes as he turned back- like he expected something _more_ , something Harry doubted he was about to deliver.

Harry got out his wallet.  “What do I owe you?”

Gary looked at the ground, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the sidewalk.  “Feel like I didn’t earn nothing,” he said. 

Harry thought about reminding Gary that he was the one who said flat out that he needed money, but he resisted the urge.  Obviously Gary wasn’t interested in charity, and bringing that up would only make it seem more like that was all this had been about.  Instead, Harry said, “Your time is money, isn’t it?”

“Guess so,” Gary said, but he crossed his arms protectively over his chest, still uncertain. 

“So if I wasted your time, I should pay for it.”

“Guess so,” Gary repeated, but he stepped closer to Harry, warming up again.  “I mighta gotten another customer if you hadn’t showed up.”

“That’s true.”

There was definitely a playful light coming into Gary’s eyes.  “And maybe… I suffered emotional distress.”  He took another step forward, fingertips dragging down Harry’s lapel.

Harry fought the urge to snort.  Gary might have been many things that night, but emotionally distressed had never been one of them.  “Oh, certainly,” he agreed instead.  He agreed, too, when Gary finally gave him a figure.  He was so very close, and Harry could feel his heat, smell the traces of that cheap shampoo he would never have suspected might become familiar.  Harry counted out the money and silently offered it to Gary. 

Gary hesitated and finally took it.

Harry put his wallet back in his pocket and smiled at Gary.  “Goodnight.”

Gary lingered for a moment longer.  Harry thought he should probably step away, especially when Gary eased ever-so-slightly closer, but he couldn’t seem to move.  “G'night,” Gary said once more.   

He drew back from Harry slowly and walked away. 

When Gary was finally out of sight, Harry slumped forward a bit, tired again.  He was so tired.  But then he squared his shoulders, held his chin up, and made his way back to HQ.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry went to the bedside table and checked his glasses. No messages- and they seemed to be in perfect working order. He set them back down and perched on the side of his bed, frowning at the text._
> 
> _It was from someone called Eggsy, and Harry knew of no one who went by that name. Or… did he? Some vague familiarity niggled, briefly, at the back of Harry’s mind, but he was far too busy reassessing the rest of his memories from the night before- wondering who could have put the number in the phone, why they might have done it, and when they could have had an opportunity to do so- to properly explore the question._
> 
> _The text said, rather cryptically:_ [u was right i guess].

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't do a whole lot of texting, so the text parts of this chapter might not be 100% realistic. I asked some people for their advice (and I'm very grateful for their help), but in the end I sort of ended up just doing whatever felt right to me.

The following day, Harry woke to an unfamiliar beeping sound. 

He had been a spy for far too long not to be finely attuned to even the smallest change in his environment- whether or not he was supposed to be safely in his home at the time- so he woke quickly and completely, ready for almost anything.  Nevertheless he kept as still as possible, lying on his stomach and feigning sleep for a few more seconds while he considered his situation.  He relaxed a little once he had confirmed that he was alone and that there probably wasn't any immediate danger.  He sat up against the headboard and looked around his bedroom, searching for the source of the noise.  He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary at all. 

If the sound- three beeps in close succession, followed by silence- had come from anything, Harry was willing to wager that it was a mobile phone of some kind- but, despite how keenly Harry had felt the lack of such a device while he had been disconnected from base a month earlier, he still did not have one of his own. 

Harry cast his memory back over the night before. 

He remembered that his latest assignment had taken him to a club, and that he had seen Gary there.  He remembered their trip to a McDonalds and the robbery.  He remembered how much he had enjoyed walking Gary almost-home, telling him things he really shouldn't have, and nearly kissing him goodnight.  He remembered how _long_ the walk back to base had seemed in comparison. 

He remembered, too, that by the time he arrived at HQ Merlin had been swamped and not at all pleased with Harry for increasing his workload, even accidentally.  Harry had decided that the best thing he could do for his own safety- and for Merlin’s blood pressure- was to take himself off and then return his equipment to the quartermaster the next day instead.  Thus, he had still had all of it with him when he had returned home and tumbled- exhausted- into bed. 

On a hunch, Harry rose and crossed to where he had left his jacket hanging on the chair by the door. 

Sure enough, he discovered that the mobile in his jacket pocket- the one that he had been carrying with him at the club- had just received a text.  The mobile, like everything else Harry had gone to the club with that didn’t double as a weapon, was registered in the name of one of Harry’s cover identities.  Though it was perfectly functional, no one actually had the number except Merlin (probably so he could call it should that ever become necessary to preserve Harry’s cover).  But Harry wasn’t in the field now, and Merlin wouldn’t send him a text unless he was unable to message him over the glasses the way he normally would. 

Just in case, Harry went to the bedside table and checked his glasses.  No messages- and they seemed to be in perfect working order.  He set them back down and perched on the side of his bed, frowning at the text. 

It was from someone called Eggsy, and Harry knew of no one who went by that name.  Or… did he?  Some vague familiarity niggled, briefly, at the back of Harry’s mind, but he was far too busy reassessing the rest of his memories from the night before- wondering who could have put the number in the phone, why they might have done it, and when they could have had an opportunity to do so- to properly explore the question.

The text said, rather cryptically: _[u was right i guess]_.

It seemed as though the text was picking up in the middle of a conversation that had already begun.  So much so, in fact, that Harry would have just assumed that the text had been sent to him in error if the mobile wasn’t also recognizing the number.  After a moment’s consideration, Harry sent, _[Forgive me- but who is this?]_ back. 

While he was waiting for a response, Harry checked back through the sent messages.  Sure enough, at around two the night before someone had set up a contact for this ‘Eggsy’ person and then sent a text back to that number which read, _[harry’s #]_.

Even before he received a reply, it became relatively obvious to Harry who the culprit had to be.  When it arrived, the message said:

 _[sorry.  i_ _t’s gary]._ This was followed a moment later by, _[nobody calls me that tho]._

 _[I see]_.  Harry was half charmed and half annoyed.  _[What was I right about?]_  

On the one hand, Harry couldn’t help but be impressed that Gary- or Eggsy, as Harry was apparently meant to call him now- had managed to steal his mobile without him noticing, and amused that he had revealed what he had done in this manner.  He even felt honored to have been told the nickname at all- because it was clear that when Gary-now-Eggsy said that no one called him by his proper name, what he really meant was that no one called him that other than his customers.  It was an unlooked-for privilege to be placed in a different category now, and Harry was more flattered than he probably should have been to receive such a gift- and by the notion that anyone- let alone someone so young and vibrant- would pick his pocket just to get his number.  The cumulative effect was... really very endearing.  

On the other hand, Harry was aggravated to think that he had been distracted enough to miss getting his pocket picked in the first place.  He could hardly believe he had been, and he knew that he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in G- Eggsy.  It left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth which made the whole exchange feel like gloating- but if it _was_ gloating, Eggsy had begun it in the strangest way Harry had ever seen. 

_[after we left the club jonesy- one of the others- left with your guy.  he’s back now and he’s scared.  i’m guessing that was some deep shit because nothing scares jonesy.]_

Harry wasn’t surprised to hear that- and whatever else the night before had brought, Harry wasn’t sorry to have saved Eggsy from the experience.  He was also, frankly, glad it hadn't been anything _more_ serious than a few threats.  Arthur could be a little too zealous when it came to protecting the respectability of his associates.  _[Is this a thank you?]_ he asked. 

The next response took a bit longer to arrive: _[guess so]._ Then, _[thx]._

Harry rolled his eyes, most definitely charmed in spite of himself. _[In that case, you’re very welcome.]_

When no other texts were forthcoming, Harry set the phone down next to his glasses and scrubbed a hand over his face.  He had gotten less sleep than he had probably needed, and his muscles certainly remembered the altercation from the night before, even if his memories of it were still somewhat sleep-clogged and hazy.  Harry wondered what Eggsy was doing that had gotten him up after an equally late- and eventful- night.    

The sun had been almost up by the time Harry had finally made it home, and he hadn’t bothered to shower.  He regretted that now; he felt gritty, and he smelled a little too strongly of sweat- not to mention grease, smoke, and scotch.  Harry wrinkled his nose and added a very thorough shower to his usual morning routine. 

Once he felt clean again, Harry pulled on a dressing gown and even stripped and remade the bed with clean sheets for good measure. 

This done, Harry gave in to temptation and checked the phone one more time.  He had received no new messages.  Harry stowed the phone in the pocket of his dressing gown without letting himself think too much about it.  Then he headed downstairs to make himself a pot of coffee. 

Harry had finished his first cup and poured himself another, read his morning newspaper, started on his breakfast (even though it was technically closer to lunch by that time), and come to the conclusion that Eggsy must have had nothing more to say to him when he received one more text:

_[so u got a phone now then?]_

Harry swallowed a bite of toast before he had properly finished chewing it.  He coughed, washed it down with a swig of coffee, and considered the text.  He turned the question over in his mind, what Eggsy must have really wanted to know when he decided to ask it.  He thought about how he felt when he was around Eggsy, thought about having a connection to him more concrete than random chance. 

Harry's fingers hovered over the keys for several moments before he decided not to reply until he could be sure of his answer. 

He finished his breakfast and went back upstairs to get dressed for work. 

*   *   *

Things were much less chaotic in Merlin’s office than they had been the night before, but he was still buried in paperwork and his mood didn’t appear to have improved much at all.  Harry arrived with a freshly brewed- and heavily caffeinated- cup of Merlin’s favorite tea in his hands as a peace offering.

As Merlin scowled and took it, Harry asked, “Did you get _any_ sleep last night?”

Merlin snorted, but at first he said nothing. 

He looked tired and sort of blurry where he was normally all sharp edges; he had clearly settled into the kind of afternoon lethargy that comes of getting little to no rest the night before.  Harry had dealt with Merlin enough times when he was like this to know that it wouldn't pay to pester him further.  He would just have to wait until Merlin was ready to talk to- read: yell at- him.  And if he tried to avoid the lecture for much longer, he would only come to regret it later.  And anyway, he did want something.

Finally, several minutes and half the tea later, Merlin said, “I can't believe you’d ask me that, after last night’s display.”

“Was Arthur very angry about how I handled things at the club?”

“As a matter of fact he was."  Harry chuckled a little at the thought, and Merlin even smirked before he remembered that he was meant to be mad at Harry.  When he did, he added, "I wish you wouldn't bait him like that.  I'm the one who has to deal with him after you do."  Merlin went quiet and frowned into his tea, as though he had forgotten what his original point had been.  When he remembered, Merlin fixed Harry with a hard look.  “But that isn’t what I was talking about, and you know it.  Really, Galahad- a robbery?  At a _McDonald’s_?  What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking anything,” Harry said.  “It wasn’t something I orchestrated to make life difficult for you.”

“You could have fooled me,” Merlin grumbled.  He drank some more of his tea.  “This might be hard for you to imagine, but sometimes things happen in this world and you don’t have to get yourself involved.”    

Though Harry knew it was really best to just nod along until Merlin was finished, he found he couldn’t let that one stand.  “You would have preferred I played hostage, then?  Perhaps I could have stayed after, and given my statement to the police.”

Merlin’s scowl deepened and he returned to his tea without reply. 

Harry used this opening to return his equipment, minus the mobile.  Merlin’s eyes were a little unfocused still, and Harry thought it was possible that Merlin wouldn’t even miss it, but he decided not to push his luck.  He withdrew the phone from his jacket pocket.  “I’d like to keep this, if that’s all right with you.”   

Merlin lifted his eyebrows.  “Would you now?”

Judging from Merlin’s expression, he had seen through Harry’s deliberately casual tone.  Harry tolerated the piecing look Merlin sent his way as best he could.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your… dinner companion last night, would it?”

Harry knew he should have seen that one coming.  After all, Merlin would hardly have wiped the camera footage from the McDonald's without looking at it first, he was far too nosy.  Still, Harry couldn't keep the faintest of flushes from spreading across the back of his neck at the thought that Merlin had _seen_. 

For a moment or two longer, Merlin just looked at Harry- then, to Harry’s surprise, he laughed out loud.  “You _are_ allowed to have a personal life, Galahad,” he said at last.

Underneath the laughter was something apologetic, something that made Harry's throat close up around a glib _am I?_   Harry had hardly been operating under the assumption that it was forbidden; he hadn't misunderstood anything, and it wouldn't have been Merlin's fault if he had- nor was it Merlin's fault now that Harry had been lonely, having elected long ago to let his life revolve around Kingsman.  It certainly wasn't Merlin's fault that Harry was only just beginning to regret that decision.   

“If you wanted a mobile," Merlin continued, "you should have just asked for one.”  He jerked his chin towards the phone still cradled in Harry's hands.  “Keep it if you like.  I’ll take care of any personal information attached to it when I get the chance.”

“Thank you,” Harry said quietly. 

Merlin nodded magnanimously and then turned his chair around, mug of tea cupped between both hands.  “You can thank me by bringing me another,” he said without looking at Harry.   

“Of course.” 

Harry understood that he had been dismissed.  He obediently headed down to the kitchens.  He stopped on the way there and composed a text: _[Yes.  I have a phone now.]_

Eggsy’s response was quick without being too quick.He took exactly the amount of time to answer that Harry would have expected from a person who had made a habit of keeping his phone with him and replying to any texts promptly, but who had _not_ been waiting by the proverbial phone.  Harry wondered if he was right in that impression, or if Eggsy had just been trying to make it look that way.  He wondered if he was overthinking the whole thing. 

 _Yes._   Yes, of course he was.  

The text Eggsy had sent said only, _[cool]._

Harry laughed quietly at himself and put the phone back into his pocket.  He had just started on Merlin's next cup of tea, and he had to admit that he finished and delivered it to Merlin with just a bit more of a spring in his step than usual.   


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As he boarded the jet, Harry regretted not explaining to Eggsy that yes, he did have a phone now- but he wouldn’t always be able to use it. By the time he left English soil, Harry had thought about sending Eggsy such a warning at least five times. Harry’s fingers had played along the keys, even typing out a few words before he deleted them again. It felt like a liberty he could not take, an assumption a man like him should never presume to make about someone like Eggsy- that he would send messages, that they would be numerous enough for any lapses while Harry was out of the country to be in some way profound, that Eggsy would be hurt if he did not hear from Harry regularly._

It seemed that their conversation about the phone had been a momentary ceasefire only, because- almost the moment Harry returned to the quartermaster’s office that day- Merlin had packed him off on another mission. 

As he boarded the jet, Harry regretted not explaining to Eggsy that yes, he did have a phone now- but he wouldn’t always be able to use it.  By the time he left English soil, Harry had thought about sending Eggsy such a warning at least five times.  Harry’s fingers had played along the keys, even typing out a few words before he deleted them again.  It felt like a liberty he could not take, an assumption a man like him should never presume to make about someone like Eggsy- that he would send messages, that they would be numerous enough for any lapses while Harry was out of the country to be in some way profound, that Eggsy would be hurt if he did not hear from Harry regularly. 

And yet… and yet surely any liberties taken had not been taken by Harry.  He had not asked for Eggsy’s number or even volunteered to give Eggsy his- Eggsy had _stolen_ it from him.  Harry had not sent the first text, nor had he been the one to imply that there would be further communication between them.

It was difficult to know what would and wouldn’t be appropriate under those circumstances. 

“I’m sorry about this, Galahad,” Bors said when Harry arrived.  “There’s been fuck-all to do out here, I’m afraid.”

Merlin had sent Harry to relieve him, and though Harry knew it was a punishment he also knew that someone had had to go.  Bors had been in that cabin for several weeks and he was clearly almost out of his tree.  “It’s quite all right,” Harry said, squeezing Bors’ arm and doing his best to settle in.

Harry’s job was to wait, and watch, and hope that Bors’ target finally made contact with the rest of his men so Kingsman wouldn't have to track them down individually later. 

Harry had learned a long time ago that a Kingsman’s work consisted of a great deal of action compressed into a very small amount of time- and that said action was framed on all sides by boredom.  _Extreme_ boredom, in some cases.  Each agent filled those periods in a different way.  Lancelot collected knick-knacks.  Percival learned different styles of meditation.  Bors knitted.  And Harry, well- Harry had a tendency to obsess over anything that had gone wrong for him lately. 

After he met Eggsy- or Gary, as Harry had known him for most of that time- Harry had also thought of him more than he wanted to.  Turning the incident with Granby’s mercenaries over and over in his mind was a sort of happy medium between the two.  

In the many long hours monitoring security camera footage and staring out a rifle scope that followed, Harry thought a lot about both the incident and Eggsy. 

He had sent Eggsy no text, in the end- and since he knew better than to carry Merlin’s assertion that he was allowed to have a personal life too far he had decided to keep the phone off while he was working.  Such as he _was_ working, of course.  Bors was right; there was fuck-all to do _but_ mull things over.   

Confiding in Eggsy had, Harry found, actually helped a great deal.  It hadn’t made any specific thing about the night they met clearer, true, but it had solidified things in Harry's mind.  He had become more and more convinced that there was something he had seen or heard that made him either a loose end or otherwise dangerous.  Perhaps Granby had allied himself with someone he thought Harry might pose a threat to- or perhaps he had reason to believe that he would be a free man again soon and wanted Harry out of the way.

Three days in, the other men finally arrived.  Only a few hours after that, Harry was on his way home with some new bruises, a terrible chip on his shoulder about the whole business with Granby, and the pair of newly knitted socks Bors had left for him.  When he made it back to London, Harry found three texts from Eggsy waiting for him.  

_[stopped at a mcd’s again today and nothing weird happened.  in case u doubted who the problem was]_

_[y is it always the richest guy in the line who's a dick?  i’m having a shite day too, reginald, but i’m not gonna take it out on the shop girl]_

_[do u have opinions on diapers?  got sent out for some but nobody said anything about brands]_

That second text- though it was almost a day old while the third was less than an hour- was the one Harry found himself most tempted to reply to right away.  He had gone from his debrief straight to a meeting in the round table room, and Gawain- a snobby piece of work who was unquestionably Arthur’s favorite and given massive leeway as a result- had spent ten whole minutes complaining about how his driver didn’t show him the proper deference.  Meanwhile, Harry had had a dreadful time of it and was still managing to be civil to everyone.  In other words, Harry saw Eggsy's point. 

Harry also wanted to know, immediately and fiercely, why precisely Eggsy had been having a shite day.

But while Harry had never been exactly a picture of obedience and respect during meetings, he knew better than to start texting in the middle of one, not unless he wanted Arthur furious- and though Harry certainly did enjoy baiting his boss at times, today was not a day on which he could afford to indulge.  Accordingly, Harry thought of how the latest text- the one about the diapers- meant that Eggsy had a younger sibling now and that the child was most likely well.  Harry pictured Eggsy holding a baby and with it in mind refrained from saying anything inflammatory.  Merlin did accuse him of having a glazed look after it was over, but Arthur was of the opinion that there were worse things an agent could do than look glazed during a meeting.

That was good, because Harry had a feeling he was about to do one of those things. 

Once all the other agents had filed out and Merlin had grudgingly followed, Arthur turned to Harry and said, “I gather there was something you wanted to tell me.”

Harry nodded.  He _wanted_ to go home and rest, but he wanted to get this over with even more.  “I trust you remember a month ago, when I was attacked by some mercenaries who had been paid to go after me?”

Arthur nodded.  “That was sloppy, Galahad- letting them find a trail that led to you.”

“I suppose it was,” Harry said.  He didn’t like to admit that he’d made an error, but it almost always buttered Arthur up when he did.  “But it turns out I’m not the only one who missed a trick.”

After all the time Harry had spent in that cabin doing nothing but worry at the problem of Granby, it probably wasn't too odd that the moment he boarded the jet home he had started to look into it.  Harry was good with computers (better, certainly, than Merlin gave any of the agents credit for being- which was how he had managed to keep his private mainframe private all these years) and getting into Kingsman’s files from the plane was easy enough.  There, he found copies of Granby’s digital records.  Once the parts of the mission involving gunfire were over, such files usually became the purview of either Arthur or Merlin; the agents rarely saw them.

Clear as day, when Harry looked at those records, was the proof that Granby had gotten a large infusion of funds in the short period between his initial association with Harry and his subsequent arrest.  As Harry had told Eggsy, Granby was no starving genius type in search of a wealthy patron; he did, however, like to get paid for his creations.  Said creations were weapons, all exceedingly dangerous and most of the city-leveling variety.  Which meant that (unless Granby’s buyer had paid him far in advance, in which case Granby ought to be grateful to Harry for sending him to prison) one of Granby’s designs was still out in the world.  

What stung Harry far more than the fact that he had missed something, however, was this: the files had been sent to either Arthur or Merlin, which meant that one of them- almost certainly Arthur- _knew all of this already_.  

So Harry wasn’t surprised- though he _was_ disappointed- when Arthur reacted without a trace of shock when Harry related his discoveries.  He did look a tiny bit perturbed that Harry had been investigating the matter further, but really Arthur should have known better.  There were things about which Harry supposed he _was_ sloppy, but at least he could say he had never willingly let a superweapon slip through Kingsman’s fingers. 

“Feel free to stop me any time,” Harry said.  “Since you’re the one who decided that it wasn’t important.”

“You make it sound so neglectful, Galahad,” Arthur replied with a tiny laugh.  Harry had made the mistake of letting his tone get too angry, and now Arthur was amused.  “It was a calculated decision, I assure you.  If you had taken the time to track down that one missing device, you would almost certainly have missed the window for Granby's arrest.”

Harry gritted his teeth, annoyed because Arthur was probably right  The trail to Granby’s buyer was stone cold now, but he could tell that they had covered their tracks well and it would have been difficult to trace them even back then.  Harry would have had to keep close to Granby until he found a lead, and Granby had already been suspicious.  Something could have tipped him off in that time.  Harry could, indeed, have lost him.

He resented not being allowed to try, but making those decisions was unfortunately what bosses were for. 

“Perhaps I wouldn’t have,” Harry said, all the same.  “And we wouldn’t have had this fallout.”

“What fallout?” Arthur asked.  “Nothing has happened, and I can assure you I have kept my ear very much to the ground.  If the buyer resurfaces, I’m confident we will catch them in time.”

“If?” Harry repeated.  “I may not know what they bought, but I doubt they bought it to be an unusually deadly paperweight.”

Arthur lifted an eyebrow.  “The bigger picture, Galahad.  I’m sure you’ve heard of it.  I decided to let one weapon get away so that hundreds if not thousands would be neutralized.  I know you’ve made the same calculation.”   

He was right about that too, though Harry wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it.  “I have leave time due,” he said instead.  Merlin would probably hate to give it to him after what happened at the McDonald’s, but since he was usually pestering Harry to just take the leave and go away he could hardly deny it to Harry now.  “Perhaps I’ll look into this on my own time.”

“And on top of everything you refuse to understand the definition of ‘leave’,” Arthur said with a sigh.  He showed no sign of being rattled by the proposal, however.  Harry couldn’t say he was surprised by that, either.  Arthur had been playing this game for such a long time; it would be sheer folly to forget how good at it he was.  “Run along then, Galahad.  I can’t stop you.  But for now, go home.”

Harry obeyed. 

It rankled that Arthur was at least half right.  Harry _had_ made the same calculation.  His office at home was practically a shrine to the bigger picture.  In the course of Harry’s work, people got hurt.  Usually Harry, sometimes other Kingsman, sometimes civilians- there were days when he could only make peace with it by reminding himself of everyone else who got on with their lives, all unknowing that the world as they knew it had almost come to an end.  There were days when that was colder comfort than others, and today- as Harry headed back to his perpetually empty house- it was colder than usual.

Harry had just sat down, heavily, aboard the empty bullet train when his phone beeped.  Eggsy had written: _[don't leave me hanging harry]._

After taking a moment to remember what Eggsy was talking about- diapers- Harry wracked his brain and finally sent Eggsy the name of a brand. 

Eggsy’s first two texts hadn't been questions for Harry to answer or not.  Harry wondered if that had been a purposeful decision on Eggsy’s part or pure happenstance.  He wondered, too, if- after three days without a word from Harry- Eggsy would be surprised to hear from him.  If he was, Harry wouldn't have known it from the speed of Eggsy’s reply: _[seems like a good choice.  thx]._

Harry wondered if Eggsy would ask for an explanation as to why he had been so quiet for so long.  He wondered what answer he would give.  _I was in the field._ True.  _I was being stupid._ Probably also true.  _I was afraid._    Possibly _too_ true. 

Eggsy never asked. 

*   *   *

_[did u know that baby blue tits need to eat around 1000 bugs a day?]_

Harry came to a stop in one of Kingsman HQ’s hallways.  He considered the text for a moment before answering, _[I didn’t know you were such an avid ornithologist.]_

Eggsy received messages and typed replies very quickly, but this particular text elicited a longer pause than usual- long enough, Harry calculated, for Eggsy to have looked ornithologist up online.  _[fuck u maybe i am]._

Harry smiled.  He'd kept busy during the week of leave he had taken, looking for clues as to who Granby had sold his weapon to and what they were up to now.  Without Merlin’s help it was slow and solitary work, but Harry had not been completely alone because he heard from Eggsy, often several times a day.  Eggsy didn’t suggest that they meet in person and neither did Harry, though he was occasionally tempted.  Eggsy just texted Harry.  He texted random thoughts on his day to day life- complaints about the people he met, commentary on the things he saw, remarks about whatever he had learned recently.  Though Harry had yet to start an exchange on his own, he now always responded if he had something to say.  Harry often warned himself not to get attached to Eggsy, not to let himself depend too much on their correspondence- Eggsy would almost certainly lose interest sooner or later- but he had to admit that whenever he felt particularly tired or isolated in his chosen path, Eggsy always seemed to be there with some clever remark or apt observation.    

Harry had been able to add so many little things to the picture of Eggsy he had in his mind in that time.  One such thing was that beyond a certain level Eggsy wasn't very well educated, but he was _smart_ , and he didn’t at all take to insinuations that he wasn’t- but Harry thought that Eggsy had learned to identify when Harry was teasing him by then and wouldn't really take offense, and even when he _was_ offended Eggsy forgave readily enough. 

_[actually it’s daisy]._

_[She’s been telling you bird facts?]_

_[no she’s a baby.  but she seems to like the bird plushie i got her more than the others.  i know she’s too young for it to really mean nothing, but at least it’d give me something to teach her later on]._

Though she was, indeed, only a baby Harry had learned almost as much about Eggsy’s little sister Daisy as he had about Eggsy himself.  Eggsy __adored_ _ her.  Harry couldn't imagine a more doting big brother.  _[I’m sure you have plenty to teach her, Eggsy.]_

Harry realized that the smile on his face had grown to an almost idiotic size.  That was hardly a surprise, since Harry thought this latest conversation might well be the only saving grace of the day he was having.   

He had found Granby’s buyer at last.  It was a doomsday cult whose leader had lately decided that doomsday wasn't approaching quickly enough.  With this information in hand, Harry had gone to Merlin and explained what he had been up to for the last week.  It had put Merlin into an extraordinarily foul temper.  He was as angry with Arthur as with Harry himself, so he had cleared Harry to take a jet and investigate this cult- but he had done it with a stormy expression that promised further retribution, so even success set heavily in Harry's gut. 

Harry was still grinning like that when Lancelot passed him in the hallway, stopped, and did a double take before staring blatantly at Harry. 

Harry quickly stowed the mobile in his packet, but it was too late.  

“You were texting.  And _smiling_.”  Lancelot’s mouth curled upward into an incredibly irritating smirk.  “Who was it?”

“No one,” Harry insisted quickly, but he knew even as he said it that it wouldn’t do him any good.  The tiniest flush crept up the back of his neck- the way it always seemed to when someone brought Eggsy up- and Lancelot was hardly going to miss it.  Harry had had a lot of practice hiding his emotions in the field, but this thing happening with Eggsy was something new, and he didn't always know what to do with it. 

“I think you’ve found yourself a boyfriend,” Lancelot said, with much authority.

"Nonsense." 

Harry walked on, doing his best to ignore Lancelot.  But as he continued toward the jet, Harry kept turning it over in his mind- that that was how it looked.  With no one watching, no one's opinions to consider but his own and Eggsy's, Harry hadn't thought much about it.  Not just how it looked, but what it _meant_.  He liked talking to Eggsy; he found his opinions fresh and often uplifting.  Via text, there was no real reason to put a name to this thing beyond that.  But Lancelot had seen, and Merlin had probably done enough snooping to know, and it was... _something_.  But what? If Harry had kissed Eggsy the night he walked him home, if Eggsy had wanted that too and kissed him back... even then, Harry wouldn't be completely sure what name to give what was between them now.  Harry had never dated much, and he hadn't seen anyone in a long time, but even he knew it wasn't normally this complicated.  And Harry hadn't kissed Eggsy, and he didn't know for sure that Eggsy had wanted him to, and that made it even more difficult to unravel where- if anywhere- this was headed.  He decided to put it from his mind for now.  

When he did, Harry had realized that he had boarded the jet almost without noticing- and that he was not alone.  At the far back, with an ankle propped up on his knee, sat Agent Kay.  He was reading a newspaper.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.   

“I heard what you were up to.”  Harry didn’t ask how; this was almost certainly Merlin's work.  “Thought you might like some backup.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. 

Though he never looked up from his newspaper, Kay seemed to sense it.  “I’m the one who saved you last time, remember?”

“'Saved' is an overstatement, I think,” Harry replied.  He had, after all, taken care of most of the mercenaries before Kay even arrived. 

Kay finally put the newspaper down, his nose wrinkling.  “Whether it is or isn’t, I’m involved.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the idea of being someone else’s loose end.”

Harry sighed and sat down across from him.  “I suspect I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I did.  Come along, if you must.”

Kay went back to his newspaper without another word. 

Harry messaged the pilot that they were ready to go.  While he prepared for takeoff, Harry took out his phone.  He wrote, _[I’m going to be out of communication for a while]_ and sent it to Eggsy before he could convince himself not to.

For a few moments, there was no response.  Then, _[k]_.  Followed a moment later by _[be safe]._

Harry smiled, not allowing himself to brood further about the whole business.  He was still smiling as the plane took off. 

Kay didn’t remark on it. 

*   *   *

They ran into two problems with the doomsday cultists:

The first was that- though they were untrained and really no match for two Kingsman agents- there were a _lot_ of cultists, and any group can be dangerous with sufficient numbers on their side.

The second was that they were not the end of the trail.  They had purchased the weapon from Granby, yes, but it was one of several they had in their arsenal, and all of them had been obtained with the help of an intermediary, some shadowy weapons dealing ring responsible not only for giving the cultists the resources they required to bring about their end of days, but also for supplying Granby with the connections to hire hit men out of prison so Harry and the people he worked for would never catch wind of them. 

Had Granby not hired such inept men, Kingsman might indeed never have suspected that these people existed.  As it was, they were far too powerful for Kingsman to ignore.  

It was Kay who had the pleasure of dropping the report detailing all of this on Arthur’s desk with a sneer and a “How’s this for the bigger picture?” because Harry was in the medical wing with three cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder.

Superior numbers always won out in the end.

Harry was bored and drugged to the gills when he got the brilliant idea to text Eggsy. 

Later, he would wonder why he hadn’t had the foresight to ask Merlin to confiscate the phone- but, of course, that would have meant admitting the particulars of the situation to Merlin, which he had no intention of doing.  _Hello, Merlin, I just thought I should let you know that the person I had dinner with that night is a rent boy and small-time drug dealer who stole that phone I wanted to keep to put his number in it.  He texts me occasionally and if you don’t take the phone away while I’m impaired I won’t be responsible for my actions._ Yes.  That would have gone over so very well.

Later, Harry would think that even if enlisting Merlin’s help was out of the question he should still have done more to prevent himself from texting Eggsy in that state- but in the moment it seemed like a marvelous idea.

The nurses were gone, having left him to rest in peace, and Harry went through the drawer at his bedside and found the phone, texting _, [whats the logic of helping a group whose beliefs you dont share end the world?]_

It took longer than usual for Eggsy to respond.  Perhaps he was busy- he was usually the one who decided to start a conversation, and he did have a life outside Harry after all- or perhaps he was sufficiently surprised by Harry texting him that it took him a moment to gather his wits and decide what to say.  Or perhaps he was just confused. 

Whichever it was, Eggsy did eventually respond to his text: _[what kind of question is that?]_

 _[a work one.  shouldnt have brought it up.  everythings fine, if i worried you.  my]-_ Harry tried and failed three times to type 'colleague' _\- [friend and i stopped them]._

 _[i'm glad]._ There was nothing more for a while, then: _[r u ok tho?  like r u hurt?]_

_[why do you ask?]_

_{u normally text more formal-like]._ This was followed by: _[it’s cute]._

 _[glad u think so]._ At the moment, it seemed utterly lovely to Harry that Eggsy thought he was cute. 

_[k now i’m really worried.  i’ll call u, don’t think i won’t]._

Eggsy hadn’t ever called him before.  Normally- especially after the thoughts he had had before leaving to investigate the cultists, the doubts he was still having about what exactly they were to each other- such an extension of their… relationship would have been a daunting idea to Harry, one that would please and frighten him in equal measure.  But right at the moment Harry wanted to hear Eggsy’s voice, wanted to play along with him, so what he said was _[why don’t u?_ ]

Sure enough, the phone rang a moment later. 

Harry answered it quickly, not wanting the noise to summon any of the nurses.   

“Are you dying?” Eggsy demanded without preamble.  “Damn it, Harry- I told you to stay safe, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t get hurt to spite you,” Harry said, warmed by Eggsy's genuine concern- and amused that both his closest friend and his… whatever Eggsy was seemed to think everything that happened to Harry happened to torment them.  “And no, of course I’m not dying.  My injuries were... relatively minor.  I’m simply-”

“Are you high?”  Eggsy sounded pretty sure that Harry was.  He cackled.

“A bit.”

“You’re cute when you’re drugged.”

Normally Harry would have bristled at being called cute twice in a conversation, but just then he wasn't sure he'd ever liked being called anything more.  “I’m glad you think so,” he told Eggsy once again- and he meant it still. 

“Wow.”  Eggsy sounded positively amazed, and he was quiet for a few moments.  Then, “I kinda forgot.”

“What did you forget?”  

“What you sound like.”  Eggsy's voice was warm and happy, perhaps even… awed.  “All… posh.”  It sounded like he felt the word- felt _any_ word- was much unequal to the task of describing the way Harry sounded to him.  He seemed as if he liked it, though.  As if he had missed hearing Harry’s voice.

“We can’t have that,” Harry said.  He was sleepy and it was hard to censor himself, or to think of a reason why he should.

“Oh,” Eggsy breathed.  Harry wasn’t sure where Eggsy was going with it until he added, “Can I see you again sometime?”

“I'd like that."

“I’m gonna hold you to that when you’re better,” Eggsy said, something that Harry was in no condition to fathom underneath the pleasure in his voice, but whatever it was Harry wanted to hear it again and again.   

“I would expect nothing less.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The silence wasn’t quite as easy as it had been at the McDonald’s- but it wasn’t particularly awkward either. There was just something... else on the air between them, as if neither of them knew how to apply everything that they had learned about each other now that they were again in the same room. It was strange, how that hesitation, that... yearning even, seemed to color every move they made- as if there were things Eggsy wanted to say, things they both did, that neither would have hesitated to put into a text but couldn’t find the words for now that they were so close._

Harry’s good mood lasted about as long as the drugs did.  He hated having to recuperate, and he never failed to let everyone around him know just how much. 

The next while was a haze of therapy appointments and finishing all the reports he had been putting off before he was injured, of trying to keep abreast of the investigation into the weapons dealing ring and waiting to be cleared to go back into the field.  Harry wasn’t happy about any of it; he hated that he had started this whole thing and could have no part in it until he was better. 

And then, of course, there was Eggsy. 

He really did try to hold Harry to what he said while he was in the medical wing, and Harry really wasn’t sabotaging him.  The drugs hadn’t made him say anything he hadn’t very much wanted to say- they had just made it difficult to remember any reason to keep his mouth shut.  At any rate, he did _want_ to see Eggsy- but it seemed like every time Eggsy was free to meet in person, Harry had a meeting scheduled that Merlin would absolutely skin him if he missed.  And Harry wasn’t the only one who couldn’t seem to make or keep concrete plans: every time Harry was free, Eggsy had somewhere he needed to be.  Harry kept his nose out of those ‘appointments’ as best he could.  He told himself that he was simply respecting Eggsy’s privacy when he didn’t push for answers that Eggsy hadn’t volunteered, but in truth Harry was afraid that if he knew too much about the things Eggsy got up to he would worry about him at best and be unfairly, unreasonably jealous at worst.  It didn’t matter how many times Harry told himself that he had no right to feel that way- he still sometimes caught himself thinking that he’d like to cut the hand off of anyone who had ever touched Eggsy.  Better not to let his thoughts wander in that direction.  Better not to think about it at all. 

“It always goes so much smoother when we just run into each other, don’t it?” Eggsy said one day.  He was beginning to get frustrated.  They both were, but Harry was enjoying the texts, now interspersed with the occasional phone call, too much to really lose patience.  It was all so surprisingly comfortable, just as a great many things had been between them since they met. 

Sometimes Harry wasn’t in the mood to talk, and Eggsy seemed happy to hold a one-sided conversation the same way he with had those earliest texts.  Other times Harry wasn’t in the mood to listen, and Eggsy would leave the line open while Harry did his paperwork and Eggsy did whatever he did and they just… listened to each other breathing.  All their interactions brightened Harry’s dry days considerably.

Today, for instance, Harry was sitting in a waiting room between examinations.  All of Kingsman’s waiting rooms were reasonably luxurious, and yet Harry would still have been dreadfully bored if he hadn’t been able to chat with Eggsy.   

“You say that as though it’s happened more than twice,” he said.   

“Twice is pretty often,” Eggsy insisted. 

Whether twice was 'pretty often' or not rather depended on what was in question, but Harry supposed Eggsy had a point.  Anyway, he sounded sullen- hurt, even- and Harry wanted to soothe him.  “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon.”  He actually thought it was true.  He didn’t believe in fate- but he couldn’t help feeling, at times, that something more than pure chance must have driven him into Eggsy’s orbit over and over like that. 

Harry considered whether he ought to give fate a hand in this case.  He could ensure that he ran into Eggsy again soon; there would be nothing easier, if he was willing to use Kingsman’s resources to find him.  Harry was half sure that that was exactly what Eggsy was inviting him to do.  But Harry rather liked how little he knew about Eggsy.  Liked having the opportunity to discover him the way normal people who were getting to know each other did.  Harry couldn’t remember the last time he had met anyone who wasn’t accompanied by a briefing from Merlin outlining their entire lives.  Harry dismissed the idea of engineering another meeting with Eggsy for the moment.  He was sure they would find each other again soon enough.  He wanted to appreciate what they had now.    

Even so, the possibility of creating a coincidence in order to see Eggsy again must still have been there in the back of Harry’s mind when he was finally cleared for ‘light’ duty.   

‘Light’ in this context meant keeping an eye on someone in-country, reporting back when he found something, and taking himself out of there before any action happened.  Harry didn’t like it, but he was willing to accept Merlin’s terms if that was what it took to get back to work. 

The investigation into the weapons dealing ring had been rather a mess thus far- there were simply too many threads and too few answers for Kingsman to know the names of any serious players yet.  They just had vague connections.  A location where a trade might have been made once upon a time.  A person who might have played facilitator when it was.  As a result, the kind of investigation that would normally be conducted by one agent, maybe two, involved half a dozen by the time Harry was cleared.  Kay and Lancelot were both already overseas; Bors and Tristan had done some work before being moved on to more straightforward missions; Gawain and Percival were called into Merlin's office alongside Harry for a briefing. 

Merlin was handing out three different assignments that day; the three agents were allowed to choose the one they wanted.  

As the most senior knight, Harry got first pick.  One of the assignments involved a prestigious art auction house, which they had reason to believe had once moved something deadlier than usual for the ring.  Another involved a few minor sons of the nobility at what looked like a never ending series of charity galas, where one of them might have once agreed to fund a group far less savory.  With those options on the table, everyone was surprised when Harry picked the third option- a seedy character they thought might have introduced someone who worked for the ring to a potential buyer once or twice. 

Harry picked him because the club where he spent most of his time was similar to the one in which Harry had encountered Eggsy that second time.  The club was frequented by drug dealers and rent boys.  Harry wasn’t sure how small Eggsy’s world really was, what the chances were that he did some work at this club as well- but even if he didn’t run into Eggsy there, Harry was sure he would at least have reason to ask for Eggsy’s advice about the players involved.

The others didn’t know that, though, so Harry had to endure some odd looks and very pointed teasing.

“From what I gather,” Gawain said with a snicker, “you’ve had call to pretend to be a john a couple of times lately.  Finding you blend in well, are you?”

Percival, as usual, said nothing.

Harry made a very ungentlemanly gesture while Gawain guffawed. 

*   *   *

The place where Harry’s mark spent most of his time was indeed very much like the club from before.  Just as then it was poorly lit, with lots of young people in tight groups, mostly drinking and dancing.  Also just as then, Harry had found a stool by the bar from which to keep an eye on his man.  His man's name was Walker, and he was holding court over a group of men who struck Harry as even more repulsive than the man himself, while several much younger men- a few of whom looked to Harry like they weren’t even old enough to drink- milled around with the same little packets and tight jeans Harry remembered from before. 

One of them looked a bit like Eggsy from the back, but Harry could tell immediately that he wasn't.  Even so, Harry felt a flash of possessiveness when Walker pulled the boy into his lap.  Even if it had been Eggsy Harry knew he would have had no right to feel that way, but he did.

Merlin wasn’t handling Harry on this mission; he was needed for other things.  Thus Harry's glasses were recording and sending footage to his personal mainframe.  No one was watching, and no one would be unless something interesting happened- but Harry couldn’t keep himself from thinking about what Merlin would say if he was.  _You’re starting to be afraid that Gawain is right about you, aren’t you?  Afraid of what that means_?

Harry would argue that it didn’t mean anything, that he was nothing like Walker, but it would probably leave a bad taste in his mouth.

One of the other boys approached him.  “Like some company?” the boy asked, reminding Harry- not pleasantly- of when he first met Eggsy.    

Harry opened his mouth without being completely sure what answer he intended to give.  On the one hand, no- he found that he most definitely did not want company.  On the other, he was going to draw attention just sitting here drinking and watching.  He was meant to be there for a reason, and that reason was not meant to be Walker.  So he had to say something- but what?

The question was taken out of his hands only a moment later.

“Clear off, Andy,” said a familiar voice from behind Harry.  A warm body settled against Harry’s elbow and Harry didn’t turn around, he just watched the boy- Andy- as his eyes flicked curiously over to the new addition and his lip curled. 

“Yeah, fine, Gary,” Andy said at last.  He didn’t sound exactly happy about it, but he obediently slipped away.

“Hello, Harry,” Eggsy said when Harry did finally turn around. 

He looked a bit thinner than he had the last time Harry saw him, but his eyes were as bright and clear as ever. 

While Harry took Eggsy in, Eggsy did the same to Harry.  There was something hungry in his eyes, and though it never melted away entirely it was at least partially sated once he’d looked Harry over a few times- and then his mouth flattened into a line.  “You ain’t here for me,” he said.

Harry’s first thought was, _did you want me to be_?  They had talked about meeting in person, yes- but in a decidedly different capacity than this.  And Harry had thought about orchestrating a meeting, thought about how it might lead him back to Eggsy if he took this assignment, yes- but he still didn’t know what such a meeting really meant.  What did Eggsy want from him?  For his part, Harry's feelings for Eggsy went a few unfortunate steps beyond friendship- but if a friend was what Eggsy wanted Harry was willing to be that for him, and he found it difficult to imagine that Eggsy wanted anything else.  Harry knew that what Eggsy did for a living had no bearing on who he was attracted to- but though Harry could be arrogant in some respects he knew he was no prize.  Eggsy’s occasional flirtations notwithstanding, Harry had trouble believing that Eggsy could be anything but uncomfortable with the idea that an old man like Harry wanted him, desperately. 

Harry’s second thought was, _how do you know?_ Could Eggsy see so easily that he was working?  That Harry had only idly thought he might see Eggsy today?  Harry wasn’t sure, and that bothered him. 

Finally Harry admitted, “No.”

Eggsy’s mouth twisted further.  “I’ll leave you to it then, shall I?”  He sounded like he was moments away from calling Andy back.    

Harry caught his arm, gripping him by the wrist.  Just as he had in the club before Eggsy stiffened briefly and then relaxed under Harry’s hand.  Without any real permission from his brain, Harry’s thumb passed over the soft skin on the inside of Eggsy’s wrist.  Eggsy’s breath hitched just slightly.  _Of course I’m here for you, you gorgeous boy_ , Harry thought.  _I wouldn’t have taken this assignment at all, I’d be at some art auction or charity gala, wearing a tuxedo and not wondering what it says about me that I would pay you double- triple- what I offered the first time just to touch you.  And instead I’m here because it meant there was a chance I’d see you and I wanted so much to see you_.  Harry didn’t say any of that.  He just said, “Don’t.”

Eggsy stopped and stayed at his side, though it was clear that he still wasn’t happy.  “What _are_ you doing here?” he asked. 

Harry glanced around.  They had drawn a little attention, particularly from Andy.  Harry bent and tugged Eggsy’s hand towards him at the same time, pressing his lips to the inside of Eggsy’s wrist.  Eggsy made a soft noise and Andy looked away sharply. 

Harry nuzzled Eggsy’s pulse point, inhaling without really meaning to.  The very smell of him did things to Harry that he could hardly believe.

He tilted his head toward Walker.  “Do you know him?”

Eggsy glanced that way out of the corner of his eye.  “Yeah.”       

“Tell me about him.”

“He owns this place, decides who gets to do business here and who doesn't.  There are even a couple of flats upstairs that he rents to… well, to people like me.  To- you know- work out of.”

“I see,” Harry said thoughtfully.  “Do you have one of those flats?”

Eggsy snorted.  “No chance.  Couldn’t afford one.  I hardly ever come here anyway.”

Harry considered that.  "Then why are you here tonight?"

Eggsy's mouth twisted.  "You.  Somebody who saw me leave with you last time texted that you was here, asking about you.  I said some things to scare him off before I got here.  Sorry." 

Harry flicked his eyes around the room, finally zeroing in on a young man who was giving him a wary look.  Harry shrugged.  He didn't really care what that boy thought of him- though he did care, a little, what that boy thought of Eggsy.  Eggsy had probably rather undermined his credibility by warning him off Harry and then doing this.  "It's fine," he said.  It really wasn't his business.  "Would you want one of the flats, if you could afford one?  Would that be to your... advantage?"

“Walker takes a cut,” Eggsy said.  “And I don’t trust him, not one bit.  But yeah.  It would.”

Harry was saved from having to find a way to delicately ask if Eggsy would allow Harry to give him the money for one such flat so Harry could work out of it for a few days- if not weeks- when the very man they had been discussing sidled up to the two of them.

“Gary,” Walker said, with the kind of sleazy joviality that tended to make Harry want to start throwing punches.  “Let me do you a favor, huh?  You can take 4A for the day and pay me back later, yeah?”

Eggsy bit his lip hard, his eyes darting between Walker and Harry.  “Yeah,” he said at last.  “Yeah, okay.  Thank you.  Sir.”

Without another look in Walker’s direction he gripped Harry by the hand and hauled him toward the lift.

4A was a small, one-room flat, reasonably well appointed.  There was a table and chairs, a bed with a duvet cover, a small kitchen, and a smaller bathroom.  The carpets, curtains and upholstery all looked reasonably clean.  Harry did a quick search for bugs, cameras, or other surveillance equipment and, when he found none, let out a sigh.  Harry dragged the table and chairs to the window so he would be able to look out.  Eggsy lingered by the center of the room, his mouth still pressed into a flat line.  “I ain’t gonna owe Walker,” he said.

“Of course not,” Harry replied.  “I swear.  I’ll more than pay for this, for all of it.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to watch Walker for a few days, perhaps weeks.  I can't think of a better place to watch him than from here, but I can’t exactly rent a space like this without drawing a lot of attention.  You- on the other hand- would draw very little."

Eggsy cast Harry one more skeptical look but seemed accept the answer, falling silent as Harry set up his laptop on the table and activated the cameras he had already planted downstairs.  “Now what?” Eggsy asked, looking over Harry’s left shoulder at his handiwork.  The bright interest in Eggsy’s expression as he examined Harry’s toys suggested that he was thawing again. 

Harry felt something in him relax.  He might not have known Eggsy for very long, but he already knew that he didn’t at all like being at odds with him.  “Now, we watch.  And we wait.”

 *   *   *

Harry’s laptop was equipped with the very best in facial recognition and lip-reading software, and the others sent him pictures and personal information on everyone they thought might to turn out to be connected to the ring so Harry could look for them on his end of things.  Even so Harry suspected that this wouldn't be wrapped up in a week, let alone a single evening.  He supposed there was no reason not to settle into the flat a bit.  He couldn’t pretend not to be enjoying the company. 

Once he was calmer, Eggsy made himself useful- putting names to faces and identifying unusual behavior.  In a few hours Harry felt confident enough to let Eggsy watch the footage and take notes so he could rest his eyes for a bit. 

Though he didn’t think much about it in the moment, Harry was impressed by how smoothly they worked together, how much easier having Eggsy around made things.  Several hours had passed before Eggsy finally said, "You think he’s gonna hang around much longer?” and Harry blinked, looked down at his watch, and realized how long it had been- and that this was the first time Eggsy had said anything not directly pertinent to the mission since they arrived. 

When he realized that, Harry felt bad.  Eggsy had been so helpful and efficient that Harry had almost forgotten he was a civilian.  “It’s certainly possible,” Harry answered.  He scrubbed a hand over his face.  Walker hadn’t moved or done anything more interesting than drink and harass passerby in hours, so he doubted it would do any harm they both took their eyes off him for a moment.  “I’m sorry, Eggsy," he said.  "I should have thought this through better.”

Eggsy gave him a strange look.  “What?”

“Being with you is rather my cover for the moment,” Harry said.  “And you've been... so helpful.  But I shouldn't have made assumptions about what would work for you."

“I guess you shouldn't have,” Eggsy said.  He fixed Harry with a hard look.  “But you’re gonna make it worth my while, yeah?”  When Harry nodded, helplessly, Eggsy gave a nod of his own.  “Then I'm here whenever I can be, and I'll say when I can't.  Swear down, Harry- you ever get me into anything I can’t handle, I _will_ tell you.  I’m not about to miss a goddamn appointment, I was just gonna ask if you wanted me to get us something to eat.”

Harry just blinked at Eggsy for a moment.  Then he finally said, “I would appreciate that, Eggsy, thank you.”

Eggsy’s lips twisted into a tired, annoyed, and undeniably fond smile.  “Got cash for it?”

“I’m sure you can guess where I keep my wallet,” Harry said.  It was the first time he had- even obliquely- referred to the fact that, to have picked his pocket so skillfully, Eggsy had to have experience with that sort of thing.  He regretted it almost immediately. 

But Eggsy didn’t flinch or even look apologetic.  He just sat up a little from his position at Harry’s side and pressed up close to his chest without once breaking eye-contact. Harry wasn't as well-armed as usual- this was Merlin's favorite fight deterrent- and Eggsy took no detours dipping into Harry's jacket.  He found Harry's wallet so smoothly that if not for the heat of his body, if not for the fact that Harry was _watching_ him pick his pocket- Harry might not have known it was happening. 

But it was happening, and Eggsy was so very close.  Feeling his warmth again after such a long separation was almost painfully good.  Harry could count his eyelashes and taste his breath, minty-sweet as ever.  His eyes flickered down to Eggsy’s lips and stuck there for just a second.  They were parted, like they always seemed to be, and Harry wanted-

The second the desire to kiss Eggsy became so strong that Harry almost gave in to it, Eggsy backed off with Harry’s wallet in his hands.  He smirked, something beyond laughter in his eyes.  “Watch the screen,” he said.  “I’ll be back soon.”

“Yes, Eggsy,” Harry managed.    

In the time it took for Eggsy to leave and then return, Walker still hadn't done anything to make Harry think he might still be involved with the ring- if indeed he ever had been.  Walker had noticed Eggsy on his way out, but Eggsy’s explanation that they had worked up an appetite seemed to please him.  Still, according to the lip-reading software, he hadn’t been able to resist one dig:

_I hear it’s pretty quiet up there.  Sure you ain’t losing your touch?_

Harry blinked, less surprised that Walker had said such a thing- he didn’t exactly seem like the delicate type- than by the white hot rage that blistered through him at the thought of Walker having any kind of personal knowledge of Eggsy’s touch.  From what Eggsy had told him about their man- from the fact that it wasn’t much- Harry got the sense that their acquaintance hadn’t exactly been a long and varied one, but even if it had been- even if Walker had slept with Eggsy- Harry knew that he had no right to throw a temper tantrum over it.  He got himself under control again relatively quickly.

Once he had done that, Harry looked at Eggsy and discovered that he looked angry too.  It had nothing to do with Harry, probably, that Eggsy’s jaw had set so sharply, and that his eyes had sparked with such sudden fire.  _He’s paying for that flat, just for us, for the whole week,_ Eggsy said.  _How’s that for losing my touch?_

Harry snorted out a laugh at the look of shock on Walker’s face- a look that turned reluctantly impressed in only moments.  Harry made a mental note to back up Eggsy’s story if he ever ran into Walker.  It wouldn’t be difficult; in fact, Harry thought pretending to be an old, rich man utterly besotted by Eggsy would be far too easy.    

 _All right then_ , Walker said.  _Step into my office_.  He tugged Eggsy not toward an office, but over to the bar, where Harry’s cameras couldn’t pick up their interactions quite so well. 

A part of Harry- smaller than it probably should have been- protested.  It reminded him that while Eggsy didn’t know much about who Harry worked for or what their intentions where Walker was concerned were, he knew enough to make things difficult if he chose to share it with Walker. 

Another part of Harry argued that Eggsy had spent too much time cultivating a relationship with him- even if that relationship was hard to define- to throw it away on someone like Walker, who he had made it clear he disliked and who seemed to register quite low among his priorities.  It argued that even if Eggsy warned Walker that he was being watched, that Harry was the one watching him, Harry would most likely still learn a few things that would be of use to him. 

But the rest of Harry- still the largest part of him- hardly thought about it at all.  He had trusted Eggsy before, and he trusted him still.  

Eggsy was gone for fifteen minutes more before he returned with a couple of bags and multiple cartons of Chinese food.  “I gave him a down payment for the next few days,” he told Harry as he handed his wallet back.  “Hope that’s all right.”

“I‘m willing to defer to your judgment in that area,” Harry said. 

Eggsy’s expression went a bit odd.  He had one last bag, which he set on the floor while he put the others on the table.  He must have known Harry would notice it, but Harry didn’t bring it up and Eggsy didn’t move to explain it, he just opened the cartons up one by one so Harry could see his selections.  “What about my judgement in takeaway?”

Harry kept one eye on his laptop screen, fishing around for chopsticks and then taking up the nearest carton.  “I’m hardly a connoisseur, I'm afraid.”

“No?”  Eggsy’s eyes dragged up Harry’s chest.  “You seem like you’ve got good tastes.”

Harry shrugged.  “I’ve certainly had my share of delicacies, but when it comes to food I try not to be too fussy."  Surely the McDonald's would have made that clear.  "There aren’t many things I won’t put in my mouth.”

It was only when Eggsy flushed faintly and his eyes glinted that Harry fully processed what he had said.  He almost flushed in turn.  He reminded himself that Eggsy had started all this, giving him a once over like that and getting as close as he had when he took Harry’s wallet.  Eggsy had started it long ago. 

Harry didn’t exactly have a problem with the flirting.  He appreciated that it passed the time, that it didn’t always have to mean sex- not that Harry could deny that he wanted to have sex with Eggsy.  What Eggsy wanted, though… that was a question Harry still couldn't answer. 

Eggsy smirked and winked at Harry.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. 

Harry tried not to picture sucking Eggsy’s cock too vividly.  He knew that he had- unthinkingly- set Eggsy up for another response.  He could have paired that wink with some variation on _me too_ and put a very different face on things, and Harry was glad that he hadn't.  But why hadn’t he?  They were just talking, after all- so either saying something with such… implications to Harry would have been awkward for Eggsy, or Eggsy knew that it would have been awkward for Harry.  Harry wasn’t sure he was ready for the idea that Eggsy knew that about him- that Eggsy maybe even knew how much he wanted to be on the receiving end of that undoubtedly talented mouth, and how strongly he felt about any other men who had already had the pleasure.  He didn’t say _I hope you do_ , though he was sorely tempted.  He wanted very much to show Eggsy that he too was skilled in that area. 

And yet... Eggsy had an inner strength about him- and when he promised that he wouldn’t let Harry get him into anything he couldn’t handle, Harry believed it.  But that didn’t mean he was incapable of biting off more than he could chew.  If he _wasn’t_ flirting with Harry seriously- and when Harry looked at himself reflected back in the laptop screen and then glanced over at Eggsy that certainly seemed like the obvious conclusion- it would be far too easy for the wrong words at the wrong time to make him uncomfortable.  

And even if Harry really believed that Eggsy wanted to sleep with him- _really_ wanted to sleep with him- he wasn't willing to do anything unambiguous about it now.  The situation- him paying Eggsy to stay in such close quarters with him for such an undefined amount of time- was simply too complicated for him to risk… making a move.  Perhaps, he thought, they could properly discuss it later, once this mission was over and they could talk as they had before.

Then again, perhaps not.  Harry had had so many conversations with Eggsy over the phone and via text- and yet here they were, finally in the same room together again, and it was as though they hadn’t said word to each other since that dinner they shared.  Looking back on those conversations now, they seemed somehow unreal to him, and Harry thought it best not to make assumptions based on them going forward. 

Harry simply quirked a brow at Eggsy and left it at that.  Best not to worry about it now, when they were all but stuck with each other.  Later.  He would wrestle with the problem later.

Eggsy laughed softly- accepting the response, maybe, or allowing Harry to withdraw.

Whichever it was, he went quiet after that.  So for a while they ate in silence and took turns watching Harry’s laptop screen.  The food, while not strictly gourmet and by no means the best Harry had ever had, was perfectly good, and once Harry finally allowed himself to direct most of his attention to eating he realized how hungry he was, and he enjoyed his dinner- and the company- very much. 

The silence wasn’t quite as easy as it had been at the McDonald’s- but it wasn’t particularly awkward either.  There was just something... _else_ on the air between them, as if neither of them knew how to apply everything that they had learned about each other now that they were again in the same room.  It was strange, how that hesitation, that... yearning even, seemed to color every move they made- as if there were things Eggsy wanted to say, things they both did, that neither would have hesitated to put into a text but couldn’t find the words for now that they were so close. 

Harry wondered if it was because Eggsy didn’t actually want this thing between them to be anything more than it had been so far, because he had seen Harry as safe over the phone and was now afraid of giving him the wrong idea.  Harry wondered at the same time if that was possible.  Surely Eggsy of all people knew how not to give a man the wrong idea. 

Harry put aside his last carton of food with a little more roughness than strictly necessary.  He was doing a poor job of not thinking about this, wasn’t he?  So he wasn’t sure where he stood with Eggsy- he hadn’t ever been, he just hadn't allowed himself to really consider it over the last few months.  Maybe he had been thinking of Eggsy as safe over the phone as well.  As someone who made him feel less alone without actually expecting anything much of him. Harry loved all the little ways Eggsy broke up the days that had never seemed as monotonous to Harry before he came along as they did now, but it was only being so close to Eggsy again that reminded Harry of all the things he wanted to do to- and with- Eggsy if he would permit it.  The only way to know if Eggsy would, of course, was to ask him- and asking now was certainly unwise.  It would be too messy going forward if Eggsy refused Harry- or, worse, if he wasn’t sure that he could. 

Almost the moment Harry set the carton down Eggsy’s eyes had snapped from his own food to Harry's face, though it took Harry a second to notice.  “You all right?” Eggsy asked, not quite wary but skirting it.

The last thing Harry wanted was to frighten Eggsy just because he was annoyed with himself.  He shoved any and all thoughts on the subject away, and once he was relatively sure that he had done so for good this time, he cast about for an explanation for his mood and finally gestured toward the screen.

Walker hadn’t left yet, but it was relatively clear from the way he was acting that he intended to soon. 

Eggsy looked sympathetic, apparently willing to accept that this was the primary reason for Harry’s frustration.  “Not much to show for a day’s work, is it?”

Harry gave a half-shrug.  “We knew this was never going to be the work of one day,” he told Eggsy.  “It’s not all James Bond.”  Harry let a little boredom show through so he wouldn’t sound too pedantic. 

Eggsy laughed softly. 

Harry considered what should come next for a moment, his eyes scanning the cartons all over the table, his laptop, the bed.  Something about the day he had had, the cover- such as it was- that he had taken on, and the time in Eggsy's presence had left Harry glad he had a reason not to go back to his empty house tonight.  But Eggsy didn't have to stay; surely there was a way to keep Walker none the wiser.   

Harry had just opened his mouth to tell Eggsy that he could go home when Eggsy said, “There’s one thing I’m pretty sure you got in common with James Bond, though.”  Eggsy's eyes glinted and for a single wonderful, terrifying moment, Harry thought Eggsy might be about to make a pass at him. 

Harry wondered why he hadn't considered that possibility, why he hadn't made a plan, why-

“Drink on the job.”

Harry blinked, processing the hairpin turn the conversation had taken.  “Technically I’m not on the job right now.”  He hedged a little, unsure of his footing: “I was thinking I might poke around a little tonight, now that there are fewer people here to avoid, but that could wait for a day or two.  I’ve seen nothing to suggest it’s time sensitive.  Why?”

Just when Harry had allowed himself to forget about it, Eggsy produced the other bag he had brought back with him.  There was a bottle inside, and he set in on the table.

Harry reached out and picked it up, reading the label. 

“How’s your taste in liquor?” Eggsy asked.

Harry glanced at him briefly out of the corner of his eye.  “It’s more refined than my taste in food, I’ll grant you.”

Eggsy jerked his chin toward the bottle.  “That any good, then?”

“Yes,” Harry said.  “It’s _very_ good.  Did you... go out and purchase it?”

Eggsy straightened up.  There must have been a faint note of concern or even reproof in Harry’s voice because he sounded faintly defensive when he said, “Walker gave it to me.  But I paid him for it.”

Walker had probably gone out of his way to be difficult to refuse, which made things easier- or, at least, as much easier as explaining away a bottle of fine scotch to Merlin as a necessary work expense could ever be.  Still, Harry doubted that the money he’d had on him would pay for the scotch _and_ the down payment Eggsy had mentioned- and he doubted Eggsy would have seemed quite so carefree when he returned to the flat if he’d spent his own. 

That meant that Walker had bargained on Eggsy not knowing what was in his hands and given him a worryingly good deal. 

Harry made another note to himself for when he finally met Walker.  He would have to be _very_ generous, and maybe allude to a few unsavory kinks- groundwork Eggsy had apparently been good enough to lay for him already- and perhaps a wife and children or a secret with potential for blackmail.  Whatever would make Walker conclude that any lingering debts would be better laid at Harry’s door than Eggsy’s at the end of the day. 

Harry gave Eggsy an encouraging smile.  “It was a good investment, Eggsy.  Just the sort of thing I’d drink.”

“If you was really here for me, you mean?”

“Yes,” Harry said slowly.  “And now, if you’d like to join me.”

Harry doubted that Eggsy would have brought up the alcohol if he hadn’t wanted them to make an evening of it, but he was still surprised by the grin that broke across Eggsy’s face.  “Fuck yeah,” he said.

Harry supposed it was safe to further assume that none of this would have been happening at all if Eggsy hadn't wanted to stay, so Harry didn't tell him he could go.  He made his way into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for some glasses. Happily, the flat had a few.  He cleaned them himself under Eggsy’s amused gaze and then returned to the table.  There he filled the glasses and pushed one toward Eggsy before raising his own.  “Cheers,” he said. 

Eggsy toasted him and took a sip.  “Nice,” he said, voice a little ragged. 

If Harry had to guess, he would venture that Eggsy either didn’t like it or liked it well enough but didn’t know what made it better than any other drink.  Harry had a brief vision of… educating Eggsy.  Sitting down with him to talk about the bouquets of wines and the subtle nuances of the best liquors.  It wasn’t workable, though.  One bottle on their first night in this place, when it would have insulted or annoyed the target if it was refused, that was one thing. Harry couldn't imagine convincing Merlin that anything else was a necessity.  They hadn’t built an elaborate cover simply because Harry hadn’t anticipated spending enough time in the club to need one- so his job was primarily to play to the assumptions of his audience.  In this case, a wealthy man who truly wanted to indulge Eggsy or bring him- even partially- into his world probably wouldn’t be seeing him in a place like this.  So Harry just flashed him a smile and left it at that. 

Silence fell between them again quickly enough, and Harry searched for a way to break it- but before he could come up with one Eggsy opened his mouth, closed it again, and then laughed softly.

“What is it?” Harry asked.  

Eggsy shook his head.  “It’s nothing.” But then a moment later he said, haltingly: “I was just- just thinking.”

“Thinking what?”

“That we oughta… play a game or something. Like… I dunno.  Never have I ever or truth or dare.”

“This isn’t a beverage much suited to drinking games,” Harry pointed out. 

“No, I know,” Eggsy said.  “It’s stupid.”  He laughed again, sounding less amused and more uncomfortable all the time.  “It’s just that… we’ve talked a lot but I don’t actually know all that much about you, do I?”

Harry found himself thinking something similar.  He could hazard guesses about Eggsy, based on the sort of things he had chosen to comment on during the time they had been texting each other- but as much as Harry had come to appreciate those little glimpses into Eggsy’s life they hardly solidified into personal knowledge.  He didn’t know Eggsy’s favorite food or color.  He didn’t know what sorts of things Eggsy most wanted to do with his life.  “Well,” Harry said slowly.  “You could certainly ask me questions.  And I could certainly do the same.”

“And the drinking?” Eggsy asked, a playful light coming back into his eyes.

“Would be throughout,” Harry replied.  “Rather than as some kind of penalty.”  Harry could imagine Eggsy asking him difficult questions for exactly that reason, so he had added, “I would recommend not trying to drink me under the table.”

“Hold your liquor well, do you?”

“You have no idea.”

Eggsy shrugged, look of amusement deepening.  “I got some idea, bruv.  I mean, you ain’t drunk texted me yet.”

Harry snorted.  “I suppose not.”  The way he had talked to Eggsy while he was in the medical wing had been bad enough.  Harry shuddered to think what would happen if he ever got seriously drunk and decided that texting Eggsy would be a good idea.  “Well, then,” Harry said after a while, giving Eggsy a long look.  “Shall we?”

Eggsy nodded jerkily.  “Yeah, okay.  You should go first, though.”

“Very well,” Harry said.  He wondered if Eggsy had said that because he hadn't expected this to actually happen and didn’t have any plan, or because he was trying to make Harry feel better about agreeing.  If it was the latter, Harry didn’t necessarily think it was the result of much forethought.  Eggsy just had good instincts for people.  It occurred to Harry- probably not for the first time, though it was the first time he let himself consciously consider it- that Eggsy would make a good spy. 

Harry considered his question.  Doubtless whatever he asked would tell Eggsy something; not that hesitating too long wouldn’t tell him something as well.  Harry decided to stop second-guessing himself.  He trusted Eggsy’s intentions, and the whole point of the activity was that they get to know each other better.  Not everything was some kind of battle of wits. 

“What’s your favorite food, then?” Harry asked.  It was an obvious question, but one that Eggsy had left an opening for earlier- and Harry saw no harm in starting simple. 

“Like specifically, or cuisine?”

“Whichever you like,” Harry replied.

“Maybe pizza,” Eggsy said.  He smiled at Harry.  “I got simple tastes.”  He slouched a bit in his seat, knee settling against Harry's as he sipped his drink.  “Since we’re on food- what’s the weirdest thing you ever ate?”

“I’ve been all over the world and among all kinds of people,” Harry said.  “It might be easier to tell you what I haven’t eaten, but… hmm.  I did have fugu once.”

“That’s that fish that could kill you if ain’t prepared right, innit?”

“The very same.”  

Eggsy’s mouth twisted, as though he couldn’t decide whether he was impressed or horrified.  “Did you have to prove you were hardcore to some gangsters or something?”

“More or less.”

Eggsy’s face contorted some more, until it looked like morbid fascination was his primary feeling on the subject.  “What’s it like?  Risking your life over something that…”

“Trivial?”

“Yeah.”

Harry sighed, taking a sip of his drink that burned on its way down.  “I was younger then and… not entirely happy with myself.  I suppose it actually seemed… glamorous.”

“Not anymore?”

Harry shrugged.  “My job is still a dangerous one and I’m at peace with that.  But the shine has worn off, over the years.  If I am to die, I’d rather it be in aid of something far more serious than proving to a couple of arseholes that I’m not afraid of a poisonous fish.”

Eggsy laughed- no, giggled was more what he did.  “It’s cute when you swear.”

“You’ve heard me swear before, haven’t you?”

Eggsy sipped his drink.  “Still cute.”

Harry just watched him for a moment.  It was... illuminating to finally see how Eggsy looked when he said that to Harry.  His expression was deliberately casual, but his face had colored a little.  Harry was relatively sure his own had too.  He quickly changed the subject.  “What about you?  Have you traveled?”

“Been to Wales,” Eggsy said.  “Otherwise, no.”  He took another drink, this one deeper, and there were shadows around his eyes.  “Thought I would, once.  But no.”

“Why did you think you would?”

“That’s two questions,” Eggsy said.

“I gave _you_ two,” Harry reminded him.  He’d never seen Eggsy shut down quite like that before, and it troubled him.  It also made him curious, but he knew that he had been evasive with Eggsy in his time too.  It was only fair to give him an out.  “But you needn’t answer if you don’t want to.”

Eggsy sighed, setting his glass back down with a click.  “No, it’s all right.  I used to do gymnastics,” he said.  “Coach said I could be Olympic material, but after my mum met Dean I… well, I had to get different hobbies.  And I joined the marines out of school, but then I had to quit.  My mum, she… she needed me too much.”  Eggsy’s gaze flickered up from the grain of the table to Harry’s face.  “Makes me sound like such a loser, don’t it?”

Harry had been trying very hard to keep any judgement off his face, but some must have shown through anyway.  He suspected that if he had made any accusations about Eggsy's choices, Eggsy would have defended himself fiercely- but as it was, Eggsy sounded so worried about what Harry would think of him.  “You must understand,” Harry said slowly, “that when I was growing up, in the… circles I found myself in- a lot of young men threw away opportunities for… very stupid reasons.  Because they wanted to upset their parents, or because they felt they had all the time in the world to search for some higher calling, or because they were simply careless.  If I seemed to be judging you… It’s only because those are the standards I’m used to.” 

Eggsy nodded like he understood.

Harry sighed.  “I saw so many people self-sabotage.  Actually, I was one of them.  I was a good student when I was a boy.  I started university much younger than most of my peers- and by the time I was recruited into my current... profession I was failing out of medical school.  My mother couldn’t understand what went wrong.”

“You talked about her before,” Eggsy said, just a little hesitantly.  “Your mother.”       

Harry remembered; he also remembered thinking that he wouldn’t tell Eggsy any more about her unless he’d had a drink or five.  _Well._   Harry emptied and refilled his glass.  “She… wasn’t well for a long time.  Sometimes I think I had such a difficult time in medical school because the more I understood about her situation, the more helpless I felt.  Not that I admitted as much to myself at the time.  I was trying not to think about it at all.  Once I was recruited everything happened very quickly, and I was… often away.”

“I bet she was real proud.”

“In as much as she understood what I was doing, she was.  But… I could have been there for her much more than I was, in the end.”  It was Harry’s turn to be afraid that he was being judged.  Given all he did for his family, Eggsy would have every reason to look on Harry harshly.

But when Harry glanced his way, Eggsy just had an incredibly kind, soft look on his face.  He reached out and covered Harry's hand gently.  Harry's mouth went dry, and just when Harry thought he'd have to pull away or do something he had promised himself he wouldn't do Eggsy lifted his hand again and took another drink.  “Let’s move on to something lighter, yeah?  Favorite pet?”

Harry barked out a half-laugh and took a quick drink of his own.  “A horse, I suppose.  I was an avid rider when I was young.” 

“Oh yeah?"  Eggsy waggled his eyebrows, then shook his head.  "You just can't be normal, can you?”  Eggsy sounded so fond. 

“What’s normal?  Being either a cat person or a dog person?"  Harry laughed again.  "I’ve always had a healthy respect for cats but I’ve never kept one as a pet.  I did have a dog once, though.”

Eggsy’s eyes glowed.  “Yeah?”

Harry decided not to mention that said dog was currently mounted on his wall.  He had loved Mr. Pickle, but in an irritated, almost disconnected sort of way.  Harry suspected that Eggsy, on the other hand, loved animals in a kinder and more wholehearted fashion than Harry was probably capable of anymore, if indeed he had ever been.  “What about you?”

“Love all kinds of animals,” Eggsy said.  “But I’ve never had one of my own.  Always wanted a puppy, though.” 

Briefly, Harry entertained a fantasy of getting him one.  Even though they hadn’t had to do any kind of recruitment in years, Merlin always kept up his contacts; it would be relatively easy to find one.  But Eggsy was such a determined person and though he was young he was hardly a child.  If he felt he was able to take care of a puppy, he would have gotten one on his own.

Harry put the thought firmly from his mind.

Eggsy was beginning to slump forward in his chair.  Perhaps he was drunker than Harry had thought, or tireder than Harry had thought- or perhaps a bit of both.  Before Harry could think of something else to say, he rose- only a little unsteadily.  "So d'you think James Bond is stupid?" He left his empty glass on the table as he made his way toward the bed.  "Or unrealistic or whatever?  Like were you laughing at me the first time I brought it up, or-"

"I was never laughing at you," Harry said.  "And the comparison actually isn't that far off.  With a few ridiculous exceptions, of course."

Eggsy flopped down on top of the covers.  "This is actually pretty comfy.  Bond girls- ridiculous or not?"

Harry just sat there for a moment, enjoying how Eggsy looked spread out on the bed like that.  "I'm certainly not one to indulge that way," he said, not sure how loaded the question had actually been.  Eggsy was looking at him with such heavy eyes.  "And of course ordering a martini shaken and not stirred is the height of ridiculousness."

"Oh yeah?"

"One day I'll show you," Harry said.  "Would you like that?"

Eggsy nodded.  He looked around himself, frowning.  He seemed to notice that he was more or less dead center on the bed.  "D'you- you know- like one side of the bed better or anything?”

“I’m not particular,” Harry said, not moving. 

“Pick,” Eggsy told him.

“The left, then.”

Eggsy nodded and wriggled over to the right side of the bed, making room for Harry.  Harry found his feet moving before he had entirely given them permission to do so, and he came to sit on the left side of the bed, close enough to feel Eggsy’s heat. 

Harry hesitated briefly before he spoke again.  “Eggsy, may I ask you something?”

Eggsy frowned.  “It’s your turn, isn't it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Harry said.  “But you needn’t answer this one if you don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

The frown deepened, but Eggsy nodded.  “Ask me.”

“Do you not want to go home for some reason?”

Eggsy swallowed.  “I might.”  He chewed his lip, and when Harry didn’t press him further he finally said, “My stepdad’s getting out soon.”

“A short sentence,” Harry observed.  Since he was relatively sure that Dean was Daisy’s father, it would have to have been.

“Yeah,” Eggsy said, the weight he put on the word making it relatively obvious how much longer he thought it ought to have been.  “Anyway, his mates are sort of… making plans.  Plans I don’t really want to be a part of.  And Dean won’t be too happy when he gets out and hears that, unless… well, I can’t turn down any job they don’t manage to offer me, right?”

“I suppose not,” Harry said, feeling… strange.  “Eggsy, are you-”

"I’m okay, Harry,” Eggsy insisted, laying a hand on Harry's forearm.  “I’m _safe_ , I just… things are a little bit complicated right now, yeah?”

“ _This_ isn’t complicated?”

“Fair point,” Eggsy said with a soft laugh.  He yawned, his head sinking into the pillows.  “Seriously, Harry.  I got this.”

Harry had a feeling that Eggsy wouldn't tell him if he _didn’t_ have this- but he had no idea what he would do if he found out he was right.  Harry was the first to admit that he had something of a savior complex- it was practically a prerequisite for the work he did- but even he knew that barging into a life about which he still knew so little with some delusional vision of fixing it would be a bad idea.  Eggsy knew best what help he did and didn’t need; the question was whether he would ever ask for it.

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry started taking off his shoes, trying not to let that worry consume him.  

“Harry?”  Eggsy sounded like he was half asleep. 

“Yes?” Harry asked, not turning around. 

“Did you come here because you wanted to see me?  Like, I know you came for the job, but did you take the job because of me?”

Harry was a silent for a moment.  “Of course I did,” he said at last.  He got his shoes off and lifted his feet onto the bed, turning towards Eggsy.  He had fallen asleep after all and it was difficult to tell if he had heard Harry’s answer- although the tiny smile on his face made Harry want to imagine that he had.  “Of course I did,” Harry repeated softly.   

*   *   *

Harry woke the new morning to a message from the lower level agent they had following Walker while he was away from the club.  He was already heading back to it.

For a moment, Harry didn’t move.  Eggsy was pressed flush against his side.  Eggsy seemed to curl in on himself in sleep; he was smaller than Harry anyway, but he seemed even more so like that, huddled so tight against Harry’s body.  _Understood_ , Harry sent back.  He was surprised that- even tipsy enough that he now only vaguely remembered how they had ended up sharing the bed in the first place- he had let Eggsy get that close in sleep, but perhaps he shouldn’t have been.  It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know that Eggsy was… special.

Jostling Eggsy as little as possible, Harry sat up.  Unfortunately, Eggsy was far too close not to feel the motion, and he woke straightaway- flushing faintly when he saw Harry and remembered the night before.

Fortunately, hangovers were a great leveler.  If Eggsy’s head hurt anywhere near as much as Harry’s did, it would be very difficult for him to be too embarrassed around it.  Harry padded over to the chair where he had left his coat hanging the night before and retrieved his medical kit.  He produced two pills the medical branch mixed special- the best hangover cure in the world.

When Harry gave him one, Eggsy took the pill without a word.  It wasn’t as if Harry hadn’t also already known that the unexpected trust he felt for Eggsy went both ways- but it still surprised him a little.  Eggsy was a healthy young man, and Harry doubted he had remained that way by taking whatever someone he hardly knew handed to him.  And yet here they were.  Eggsy lay back down in silence for a few moments.  Harry wanted, impulsively, to join him- but he stayed where he was, standing by the bed.  Eggsy finally asked, “He on his way back?”

“Yes.” 

“Is it okay if I split for a couple of hours?”

Harry was sure that- if Walker or anyone else came upstairs to check the place out- he could explain why he was there alone easily enough.  He would even appreciate the chance to get the measure of Walker on his own- and also to make it particularly clear how _particular_ he was about Eggsy.  “Yes, of course,” Harry said.  “Take all the time you need.”

He did wonder how Eggsy leaving fit with what he had said the night before about preferring not to go home just now, but undoubtedly Eggsy had business to take care of.  He had made it obvious that he didn’t wish Harry to pry, and Harry felt the same way he always had: that it was best not to go digging into things Eggsy wanted to keep private.  Respecting Eggsy’s boundaries was more important than ever now.  Harry had to trust Eggsy to know his own circumstances and limits- and he couldn't get too caught up in visions of protecting someone it was not for him to protect.

That way madness lay. 

Eggsy waited to take his leave until after Harry had had a chance to use the bathroom and clean himself up.  Harry hadn't slept in his clothes in a long time, and he was regretting it now.  Harry sent a message to that same lower level agent, asking for the go-bag he kept at HQ for exactly this sort of situation. 

Once Eggsy was gone Harry returned to his post in front of the laptop, trying not to watch the clock too obsessively while waiting for Eggsy to come back.  Neither Walker nor anyone else bothered Harry in the meantime; in fact, almost nothing of note happened- although a few men eventually arrived and engaged Walker in a conversation that distracted Walker enough that he missed the agent Harry had messaged slipping into the elevator with Harry's bag and some food for the fridge. He also missed Eggsy's return a few hours after that.   

Harry had set his laptop to analyze what Walker and the others were saying, but it was difficult to understand without context.  It could be related to the ring, but more likely it was nothing to do with Harry's mission.  That was just another part of why having Eggsy around was so useful.

When Eggsy came back he looked like he'd never gotten any sleep at all.  Harry had the strangest ache in his chest when he looked at him.  For a moment, he forgot all his questions about Walker.  “Are you all right?” he asked. 

Eggsy gave an uninformative shrug. 

Harry remembered what Eggsy had said the first time they met, about how his mother could lose her flat.  He wondered if Eggsy wasn't single-handedly- or almost- keeping his little family afloat.  It must have been exhausting.  Harry wanted to help, and perhaps later he would offer to, but for the time being he decided not to pry.  He was good at reading people too, even if Eggsy did sometimes throw him for a loop, and he thought that right now what Eggsy really wanted was to not have to think about any of it.  Harry could do that for him; it was the least he could do.  “Please, sit,” he said.  “I could use your help with this.”

Eggsy looked almost painfully grateful as he did what Harry asked.     

By that evening, Harry had a working understanding of Walker and those who frequented his establishment to rival Eggsy’s own.  Walker had something of a reputation as a man who could get ahold of most anything for a price, but he wasn’t the sort of man who usually ended up with his hands in anything serious enough to get Kingsman’s attention, so any connection to the ring Harry was investigating was still tenuous. 

Eggsy shrugged when Harry told him as much.  “Dunno, honestly.”  He had looked carefully at the faces of most of the people Harry’s fellow agents had sent pictures of, but without much success.  “You don’t see a lot of doomsday devices around here.”

Harry snorted.  “I suppose not.” 

Eggsy yawned, covering his mouth halfway through.  “Sorry.”

Harry hesitated.  Eggsy clearly needed more sleep, and it looked like Walker had another late night planned.  Eggsy was useful, certainly- Harry would have been flailing around in the dark without him- but… “Are you tired?”

Eggsy nodded a little reluctantly.  “Would you mind if I-” he jerked his chin towards the bed- "took a nap or something?"

"Of course not," Harry told him.  "This room is as much yours as it is mine, after all.”

“Thanks.”  Eggsy patted Harry's hand and rose, moving away from the little table. 

"Eggsy?" Harry said.

Eggsy turned.  "Yeah?"

Harry produced one of the two spare toothbrushes he kept in his the bag, as well as some soap, other toiletries, and a clean shirt.  "Here."

Eggsy took these offerings, eyes crinkling.  "Thanks, Harry."

Harry nodded and turned back to his laptop, soon with the sound of running water in the other room playing counterpoint to his observations.  Eggsy returned with wet hair and pink skin, wearing only boxers and the borrowed shirt- which hung loose around his shoulders.  He looked younger than usual, and Harry felt dirty for the way his eyes traced the lines of Eggsy's body as he climbed into the bed, the way it made him feel to see Eggsy in _his_ shirt. 

"Wake me if you need anything, yeah?" Eggsy said. 

“All right,” Harry agreed, although he didn’t think that he actually would wake Eggsy for some time yet.

He didn't; Walker didn’t really do anything interesting, but it was very late when he finally left.  Harry was as tired as Eggsy had looked by then, and he decided that any further poking around could be put off for another day.  He shut his laptop, crossed to the bed, and perched carefully on the side of it, shaking Eggsy awake gently with a hand to his shoulder.  Eggsy blinked blearily up at him, his eyes taking a moment to clear, as if he didn’t remember where he was at first.  Finally he said, “Walker up to something?”

Harry shook his head.  “No, he’s gone home.”

“You headed out too?”

“I thought I’d stay here again tonight, since I'm actually prepared for it this time.”

“Can I stay too?”

“Of course you can.”  Harry shut his teeth around everything else that threatened to slip out.  Eggsy looked so vulnerable when he was sleepy like this, and Harry desperately wanted to keep him safe from anything that might do him harm.  He did give into temptation and rub Eggsy's shoulder lightly, though.  “Go back to sleep.” 

When Eggsy nodded, Harry turned out the light for him and went to take a shower.  As the hot water ran down on his back, Harry resolutely didn't think about Eggsy right there in the next room.  With his body clean if not his mind, Harry brushed his teeth and put on some pajamas. 

Then he headed back to the chair, careful in the darkness. 

“Harry.”  He could hear Eggsy sit up in bed.  Eggsy still sounded sleep-fogged, but a little more lucid when he said, “Your back won’t thank you for that.”

“Eggsy,” Harry started, turning around.  While tipsy- or at least buzzed- he might have been able to crawl into bed next to Eggsy like it was nothing, but it hadn't felt like nothing this morning, when he woke up with Eggsy in his arms, and it didn't feel like nothing now. 

Harry's eyes were adjusting to the lack of light, and he saw Eggsy's jaw set- which he was beginning to understand was never a good thing.  “ _I’ll_ sleep in the chair if it comes to that.”

“You need your rest,” Harry said.

Eggsy snorted.  “And you don’t?”

Harry decided not to mention that he’d noticed how tired Eggsy was all the time; that he must have been so exhausted from being always on alert- which he clearly was, except around Harry.  But Eggsy hadn’t mentioned how easily- sometimes almost foolishly- Harry had trusted him from the start.  Harry supposed returning the favor was the least he could do. 

His face must have gone soft in that moment, though, because Eggsy’s did the same.  He patted the other side of the bed, his meaning clear.

Harry hesitated.  “I’m a restless sleeper,” he said.  “Last night was... a good night, but... I have nightmares.”

And Eggsy clearly understood what Harry was really saying better than Harry himself, because he said, “Don’t worry about me.  I’m fast.”  He patted the bed again.  “C’mon, Harry.  I’m tired.”

Harry took a deep breath and obeyed, climbing into the bed next to Eggsy.  He settled, still a little stiff, as far from Eggsy as the bed would accommodate. 

This seemed to satisfy Eggsy and he lay back too, his breath evening out slowly.  Harry listened to the sound, hoping it would lull him to sleep but fully expecting to lie awake for hours, until he drifted off. 

 *   *   *

When Harry woke again, it was still dark.  He was very warm, which made sense when he realized that there was a body fitted snugly against his side.  Eggsy.  Harry cracked his eyes open and glanced first at the clock on the bedside table- it was 4 AM- and then at Eggsy- tucked under his arm and fast asleep. 

Harry hadn’t had a nightmare.  In fact, he couldn’t remember dreaming at all.  It must have been some slight movement from Eggsy that had woken him, and just as he had been the morning before Harry was amazed that Eggsy had managed to get so close to him.

He was even more amazed by how good it felt to _be_ so close to Eggsy. 

Eggsy stirred against him, blinking sleepy eyes.  It seemed to take him a moment to remember where he was and who he was with.  He flushed a bright, almost painful-looking red.  “Sorry,” he said, starting to draw away. 

Harry tightened his hold on Eggsy unthinkingly.  “It’s all right.”  He made himself loosen his grip so that Eggsy could pull away if he really wanted to.  “It’s all right if you-”

Eggsy immediately relaxed against him, staying close.

Harry gave in to the urge to rub Eggsy’s back and press a light kiss to the top of his head.  Eggsy fell asleep in his arms quickly enough, and just like before Harry soon followed him.       


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _For a while, Eggsy didn’t move- but then he took the credit card slowly. “Okay,” he said. He shook it at Harry, jaw setting into a hard line. “But I'm only gonna use it for the cover, all right?”_
> 
> _Harry wanted to say there was no need for that. He lived frugally, and he could more than afford to let Eggsy spoil himself a little. But… Harry needed Eggsy’s help to keep Walker from getting suspicious, and he was paying Eggsy for that help, or at least doing everything he could to ensure that giving it wouldn’t cost Eggsy anything. It was be better for their friendship- better for whatever they were to each other- that the waters not be muddied further. That was truer than ever, when Harry took into account how he was coming to feel about Eggsy, how he might have felt for some time now without realizing it. “As you wish,” Harry told him._

Harry woke in the middle of the night with hair tickling his nose and a warm body pressed up against his chest.  He opened his eyes and found light from the TV streaming across the bed, and Eggsy- sleeping soundly- wrapped in his arms. 

He and Eggsy had been in the flat above the club near constantly for several days by then.  Harry’s orders from HQ were to lay low for a bit longer before investigating any further, and that was exactly what he was doing.  Eggsy came and went occasionally, seeing to business Harry tried not to think too much about.  Harry left too sometimes; he took his things with him, placed a camera in the room if Eggsy didn't plan to stay there )so he would know if the flat had been disturbed while they were gone), and went back home or to a shop or HQ.  He never stayed away for a whole night, though.  While they were in the flat together, he and Eggsy played cards, or talked with an ease that no longer required alcohol, and in the evenings- after Walker had gone home and some other agent had taken over the job of watching him- Harry never needed convincing to share the bed with Eggsy. 

Since the first few times they had spent the night that way, Harry had realized that despite his warnings the only danger he presented to Eggsy in the night was that of cuddling him too much.  They might start out not touching, but they always gravitated to each other in sleep.  It had occurred to Harry lately that Eggsy probably didn’t get held much, and that he might need such contact if it was often denied him- and Harry almost managed to convince himself that it was all for Eggsy’s benefit.

Almost. 

But Harry tried not to deceive himself too much, and he knew perfectly well that he didn’t get held much- or at all- either, that he liked having someone in his arms, and that Eggsy specifically being that someone made it all the sweeter. Now and then Harry was disgusted with himself- but most of the time he was too comfortable to care. 

Moving as little as possible, Harry retrieved the remote and turned off the TV.   

Eggsy did rouse a little, but gently, and he almost immediately burrowed his face into the crook of Harry's neck.  "Pretty Woman was on," he murmured.  

Harry ran his fingers through Eggsy’s hair.  “I thought you didn’t care for those sorts of films.”  Eggsy had laughed himself silly when he discovered Harry’s love for cheesy romantic movies from the eighties and nineties.

“They’re growing on me.”

Harry laughed, and for a while after that they both went quiet.  Finally, Harry said, “I don’t know if I’ll have a choice, or even much influence when the time comes, but if I do- would you want Walker gone or not?”  Harry knew he could have phrased it differently, made it sound more like he was simply asking someone who actually knew this life what would be better for the people who would still be here once Harry was gone- but in truth he was only really interested in how this would affect Eggsy, so he supposed he might as well be honest.

Eggsy made a thoughtful noise.  “With him gone somebody else will just take his place.  And he’s kind of a dick, but better the devil you know, right?”  Eggsy shrugged.  “We’ll survive out here, whatever happens to him.”

“I understand,” Harry said.  He tightened his grip on Eggsy impulsively, pulling him closer. 

Eggsy made a pleased sound and allowed it for a few minutes, but then he disentangled himself and sat up.  “C’mon,” he said.  “I’m hungry.”

Harry blinked.  It was the middle of the night, but indulging Eggsy’s whims had become a rather integral part of his cover- and Harry couldn’t deny that he liked doing it.  “The take-out menus are over there.” 

Eggsy laughed.  “You know, I’m beginning to think you’ve never cooked yourself a meal in your life, Harry.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said.  “I’m sure I have.”

Eggsy looked skeptical as he padded to the kitchen.  “I don't believe you.  The more takeaway we get the more I think you had someone bring all this food for no reason.”

“We’ve eaten it,” Harry protested.  The food had been mostly cold-cuts and pre-prepared meals- but Harry supposed it was true that there were other things in the fridge that he'd never had any intention of using.  Did Eggsy really mean to… “Are you going to cook for me?"  Harry cleared his throat.  "I mean us?” 

“Least I can do for my best customer.”  Eggsy’s back was to Harry as he pulled milk and eggs out of the refrigerator and produced some bread, so Harry couldn’t see his face.

And he couldn't see Harry's, which was fortunate.  "Am I?" he asked slowly.  “Your best customer?”

“’Course,” Eggsy replied.  He started mixing the milk and eggs with a fork.  “Have you thought about what this looks like to other people?”  He turned on the burner and put some butter into the pan before he started to soak the bread.  “You- playing house with me every second you can?”

Harry rolled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen.  He hadn’t actually thought much about it over the last few days.  “Maybe they think I’m trying to convince you to marry me.”

Eggsy’s head was bent as he turned the slices of bread over.  He snorted.  “Like I wouldn’t have run away with you the day we met.”  Harry leaned against the counter, watching Eggsy carefully.  He couldn’t make out the expression on Eggsy’s face, but he could see a faint flush on the tips of his ears.  There was more to what Eggsy had just said than simple teasing, but-

But did he know how much Harry wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss him right then?  Did he know how much Harry wanted to drag him to the bed and do more than just fall asleep apart and wake up with Eggsy in his arms?  Did he know that Harry wanted to do all the things everyone probably thought they did anyway, and he no longer had it in him to care whether or not he had to pay for the privilege?

Eggsy had his blush under control by the time he finished the first piece of toast.  He put it on a plate and passed it to Harry. 

“Maybe I just like playing house,” Harry said, to say something.

He never had before, but then Eggsy smiled, started on the next piece of toast, and waved his spatula at Harry, saying, “Okay, Mr. Domestic, what’s this called then?”  And just like that Harry realized he wanted _this_ too.  He wanted anything and everything Eggsy would give him, for as long as Eggsy was willing to stay.

“It’s a spatula,” Harry said.

Eggsy grinned approvingly, using the instrument in question to flip the next slice onto another plate.  “Very good.”  He hopped onto the counter, his legs swinging back and forth a little.

Holding the plate Eggsy had given him in hands he no longer knew what to do with, Harry managed to smile back, but it was a near thing. 

 _Shit_.   

 *   *   *

After his... little epiphany, Harry wasn’t completely sure what to do- so he did what he always did: he buried himself in work and tried not to think about it. 

He had a good idea of the layout of the club by that time.  One particular stroke of luck was that Walker’s office was actually down the same hallway as the lifts, which Harry believed would make it relatively easy for him to pretend to be headed upstairs and then duck inside to do some much belated snooping (once his superiors agreed to let him, of course).  When Harry got the go-ahead, Eggsy stayed upstairs in the flat with Harry’s laptop; Harry had rigged it so Eggsy could watch the footage from Harry’s cameras on the main floor and let him know what Walker was up to via the laptop’s microphone, broadcasting through Harry’s glasses just like Merlin did.  Eggsy thought the glasses were absolutely fascinating. 

That afternoon, while Walker was out on the floor as usual, Harry slipped into his office and looked through his books.  He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he saved the footage to send Merlin anyway.  Maybe the quartermaster would see something Harry had missed. 

This done, Harry went back out into the club and sat down at the bar.  “I think it’s time I made my presence a little more felt,” he said quietly, his voice broadcasting to Eggsy up in the flat.  “I might be a while.”

“I'm off duty, then?”  Harry could hear the laughter in Eggsy’s voice.

Harry's chest felt warm even as his heart turned over at the mere thought of Eggsy’s smile.  He knew he needed to get his head together, but for the time being he supposed a little brooding wouldn’t look amiss. 

Harry wasn’t left waiting long. Walker might not have seen Harry's entrance, but he noticed him quickly enough- and it was him, and not the usual bartender, who appeared to pour Harry a drink.  “We haven’t met properly,” he said, offering a handshake.

Harry gave Walker's fingers a good squeeze and introduced himself as his latest alias. 

“Where’s Gary just now?” Walker asked, craning his head as if he expected to see Eggsy at any second.

“Upstairs,” Harry said.  “Sleeping.”

“Ah.”  Walker flashed Harry a smarmy grin, as if he knew exactly what had tired Eggsy out. 

Harry bit down anything less than complimentary and took a sip of his drink instead.  It was the same as the scotch Walker had given Eggsy the day they arrived. Harry saluted Walker with his glass in acknowledgement.  "I have to ask," Harry said after a moment of almost-companionable silence.  "Do you know Gary very well?"

"He was never one of my regulars, if that's what you're asking," Walker said. 

Harry had known that Eggsy didn't visit this club often, but he hadn't been sure if that was always the case.  Under the circumstances Harry supposed a little relief could be allowed through.  His cover might as well be the jealous type, since Harry wasn't completely sure that _he_ wasn't.  Harry didn't mention it, though.  He said only, "That makes letting us use your flat all the more generous."  Harry knew- and Walker knew- that Harry was paying a small fortune for that flat, of course, but Harry didn't doubt that Walker enjoyed a bit of flattery nevertheless.  " _We're_ very grateful."   

He put a gentle emphasis on the _we're_.  Coupled with the fact that Eggsy wasn't a regular, it ought to subtly make Harry's point for him.  That Eggsy wouldn't still be here without him.  That he definitely wouldn't still be here without Eggsy. 

"Likewise," Walker said, that smarmy smile coming back again.  "There's nothing I value more than a loyal customer."

Harry didn't feel much like laughing, but he let out a quiet chuckle all the same, saluting Walker with his glass again.  "I suppose I am that."

"You've hardly left since you arrived."

Harry wasn't exactly surprised that Walker knew that, but his skin did crawl, just a little, at the thought of him keeping an eye on those who used the flats upstairs.  Harry hadn't met any of them personally- besides Andy, perhaps- but they didn't have the possibility of Kingsman backup behind them as Eggsy did at the moment- and always would, if Harry had anything to say about it- in case Walker got any ideas about what they... owed him.  "I can think of nowhere I would rather be at the moment," Harry said, to put the topic from his mind- thereby introducing a much more unpleasant one: how very true that was.  Harry took another drink- deep enough to burn on its way down his throat.  "But it's possible that my circumstances may change." 

“Wife tightening the reins?”

The stiff smile Harry gave wasn’t at all a performance, especially not when he remembered what he had said to Eggsy the night before.  Harry really did like to imagine that his cover identity was trying to start something permanent with Eggsy despite an inauspicious beginning.  That he was some cheating husband (and Eggsy was... what, exactly?  A bad habit he couldn't quite kick?) was a narrative Harry didn't like at all, even though he'd known from the beginning that it would probably be necessary.  “Something like that." 

"In that case, I'm sure you'll also be grateful for the... discretion my establishment provides."

"Certainly," Harry said.  He didn't doubt that Walker would expect his gratitude to come with further patronage- an arrangement which might well turn to blackmail if he ever ceased to be so demonstratively grateful.  Of course, that would be trouble Walker would want to avoid if he could keep things amicable.  "So long as everyone remained... comfortable.  In case circumstances changed again."  _Don't make trouble for Eggsy, and I won't be difficult._

"Oh, of course," Walker said.  "I like everyone to be comfortable."

"Excellent," Harry said.  "Then we understand each other."

Walker certainly smiled like they did, so Harry considered it a profitable discussion.  He drained his glass, left a conspicuously large tip, and made his way to the lifts.

"This is spy thing is pretty cool," Eggsy said when Harry returned to the flat.  He was lying on the bed, propped up by pillows- but he hadn't been napping, he was reading a book.

Harry also didn't know if Eggsy was referring to his conversation with Walker- if he had been watching still- or if he had simply enjoyed his taste of being a handler.  Harry sat down heavily on the bed, keenly aware as he stretched out next to Eggsy of everywhere their limbs brushed against each other.  “As long as I remember to send the footage off, we may get something of use yet,” he said.

Eggsy nodded.

“Speaking of things I have to remember,” Harry said, opening his wallet and withdrawing a credit card he had had someone in the tech division set up for him, “I’ve been wanting to give this to you.”  He held it out to Eggsy.

Eggsy set his book down and looked from the card to Harry uncertainly.  “A credit card?  Sure the wife would like that?”

Harry went quiet.  So Eggsy had seen his exchange with Walker.  Harry wasn't sure why that troubled him, but he hoped Eggsy knew better than to draw conclusions about Harry from it.  “You know I don’t-”

“Have a wife?”  Eggsy looked annoyed.  “Yeah, Harry, I know that.  I mean the _wife_ \- the _job_.  This is essentially a company card, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Harry admitted.  Anything that Merlin and Arthur doubted was really a business expense would end up coming out of Harry’s pay, of course, but he didn’t think Eggsy needed to know that.  “And it _is_ part of the job.  You can’t say it isn’t something a man in my position might give you.”  Harry had spent some time thinking about this.  “And any money you have to spend on keeping our cover should come out of _my_ pocket.  You know it makes sense.”

For a while, Eggsy didn’t move- but then he took the credit card slowly. “Okay,” he said. He shook it at Harry, jaw setting into a hard line. “But I'm only gonna use it for the cover, all right?"

Harry wanted to say there was no need for that. He lived frugally, and he could more than afford to let Eggsy spoil himself a little. But… Harry needed Eggsy’s help to keep Walker from getting suspicious, and he was paying Eggsy for that help, or at least doing everything he could to ensure that giving it wouldn’t cost Eggsy anything. It would be better for their friendship- better for whatever they were to each other- that the waters not be muddied further. That was truer than ever, when Harry took into account how he was coming to feel about Eggsy, how he had probably felt for some time now without realizing it. “As you wish,” Harry told him.

*   *   *

Harry sent off the footage he had recorded and went home that night after Walker did.  He told Eggsy not to hesitate to use the card if he needed anything.  He also told Eggsy he had to go because his things were gathering dust and because he had business of his own to attend to.  Both were technically true; his things most certainly _were_ gathering dust (no one would have been by to clean, since he had never left the country), and he would be reporting to Arthur and Merlin the next morning (about what he had found- and not found- and preparations would be easier from his home)- but it was hardly the whole truth.  He also wanted some time to regroup. 

Ostensibly nothing had changed.  Telling Eggsy how he felt about him was still too big of a risk in their current delicate situation.  But what Harry wanted- or perhaps merely his understanding of what he wanted- was so vastly altered that at the same time, _everything_ had changed.  He wanted to sleep with Eggsy in the euphemistic sense of the term at last, and he also wanted to share parts of himself with Eggsy that he had never shared with anyone before- and he doubted, most of the time, that Eggsy could possibly want either of those things from him, let alone both. 

As sure as Harry was that a little time away from Eggsy was the best thing for him, he couldn’t help but think that crawling back to his empty house to sulk wouldn't do him much good either. 

He told himself it was the lesser of two evils and sulked away. 

Harry hadn't shared a living space with anyone since he was in school.  He would have expected to be reminded of that constantly while sharing the flat with Eggsy; he would have thought that he would never be able to get far without being reminded of how much he had forgotten about being in such close quarters with someone. 

But it hadn’t been that way at all.  No, he had _enjoyed_ sharing the space with Eggsy and found that it came relatively easily to him; it was only being alone once again that made Harry remember that this was how his life had always been- and it baffled him, because surely a week in Eggsy’s presence wasn’t enough for him to feel the lack of it like a gaping hole now.  Surely not.

And yet...

And yet Harry kept expecting to turn around and see him.  To hear him tease or offer to pick up some dinner or another necessity.  To feel him at his side, reading over his shoulder or explaining what they were looking at on the laptop screen.  To pick up his scent on the furniture, or in the shower, or on himself. 

Harry felt Eggsy’s absence in places he had never been.  As he put together a light meal, he expected Eggsy to pull his leg about all the utensils he had but never used.  As he showered and got ready for bed, he expected to vacate the bathroom so Eggsy could do the same, or to stumble over the clothes and toiletries and other bits of detritus Eggsy unfailingly felt behind.  As he lay down to sleep, he expected Eggsy to be beside him, to gravitate to him in sleep and be there, in his arms, when he woke in the middle of the night.

He expected Eggsy to be in his _house_.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that Eggsy belonged there with him. 

Harry took a sleeping pill that night.  He was hoping to leave those thoughts behind- but he knew that they would still be there, waiting for him in the morning when he made coffee and expected Eggsy, sleepy-eyed and loose-tongued, to be there behind him waiting for a cup of his own. 

There was something Harry had failed to account for, however.  While sharing the flat with Eggsy, Harry had had several remarkably good nights of sleep.  Frankly, he was due for a disturbance.

Harry didn’t have a nightmare, though.  He would, honestly, have preferred one to what he did have. 

He turned over and saw Eggsy lying there beside him. 

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Harry said.

“ _You’re_ here,” Eggsy replied, as if that made sense of it.  He was pressed lengthwise against Harry’s body, so warm and sweet, and he smiled and said, “Where else would I be?”

Harry _wanted_ that to make sense of it; he wanted that to be all there was to it.  He reached out, touching Eggsy’s cheek, tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips.  “I don’t know…” he began.  Something was there in the back of his mind, something that was bothering him.  It was difficult to remember what it was.  “I can’t imagine…”

“What?” Eggsy asked, the word a soft kiss against Harry’s fingertips.

“Why you would stay.”

Eggsy laughed softly.  “Silly,” he said, nuzzling closer.  “Haven’t you given me enough?”

There it was, the something that was bothering Harry.  He could imagine only one reason why Eggsy would, and it wasn’t the reason Harry wanted- and then Eggsy was pressing closer still, Eggsy was kissing him, and Harry just wanted to sink into his mouth and forget all about it.  Eggsy’s kiss felt like it always had, like going home.  His tongue was soft and warm in Harry’s mouth, and his fingers were clever as they slid down Harry’s chest, down and down to palm his cock, and Harry wanted- Harry wanted…  He tore his lips away.  “This isn’t what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” Eggsy asked.

That was a very difficult question to answer with Eggsy pressed so close.  Getting hard while he was holding Eggsy was something Harry had managed to avoid thus far thanks to age and self-control, but he was hard now and there wasn’t much he could do about it when the only thing he wanted to do- have Eggsy touch him and touch Eggsy in return- wasn't _right_. 

But Eggsy hadn't really been waiting for a reply- he was smiling faintly, like he knew the answer, and Harry could hardly blame him for that when his body was doing most of the talking for him.  Eggsy moved closer still and Harry couldn't breathe, couldn't think about anything but Eggsy's nearness and how much he wanted to-

A car door slammed shut on Harry’s street and he jolted awake before he could say or do anything else.

Eggsy was gone.  Eggsy had never been there to begin with.    

Harry lay still for a few moments, his fingers digging crescents into his palms to keep from touching himself.  He hadn’t had a dream like that since he was younger than Eggsy.  He gulped in a few breaths, and when he had himself under control again he rose and made his way to the shower, turning the water as cold as it would go. 

Standing under the icy spray was less than pleasant, but at least it took care of his hard-on. 

When Harry finished his shower, he got dressed.  He had often thought of his suit as his armor, but whatever danger he had walked into wearing it in his life, he had never felt so much like he needed its protection as he did that night.

Harry went back to the club, back to the flat he shared with Eggsy. 

He didn't pause, didn't let himself think too much, until he found himself in the hallway outside the flat.  One of the lights was flickering, and Harry leaned his shoulder against the wall beneath it, wondering if he was making a mistake.  He walked up to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for noises from within.  Nothing.  Harry knocked carefully.  When he told Eggsy that he was going home for the night, Eggsy had made it clear that he intended to stay in the flat.  Harry hadn't protested- he hadn't even wanted to- but he did regret not asking what exactly Eggsy meant by it.  Did he simply intend to sleep there, or did he intend to... utilize the flat?  After all, he had told Harry- what felt like forever ago- that it would be to his benefit if he could. 

At first, nothing happened and Harry almost slunk away and returned home. 

Then Eggsy opened the door a crack, blinking sleepily.  He didn't process Harry right away, but then he did.  He smiled blearily at Harry, resting his forehead against the door.  "Hey you.  Sneak away from the wife after all?" 

All the annoyed sharpness Harry had heard in Eggsy's voice and all the irritated hurt Harry had seen on Eggsy's face when he first talked about Harry having a wife was gone now.  This was just teasing- the kind that didn't leave Harry afraid that Eggsy didn't (and perhaps _couldn't_ ) understand how Harry was starting to feel about him- and it healed a wound inside Harry he hadn't known was bleeding.  He smiled back.  "I'm good at that," he said. 

Eggsy snorted, laughed properly, and tugged Harry inside. 

As soon as the door was closed behind Harry, Eggsy crawled back into the bed, bundling himself up tight under the blankets.  Harry stayed where he was for a moment, considering first the room, then Eggsy, then himself.  He saw no evidence that anyone but Eggsy had been there since he left, and a tightness in his chest released.  Harry sighed inwardly.  He really needed to work on his jealousy problem.  Whether he and Eggsy had a future or not, it wasn't good for either of them that Harry felt this way.  And that thought led Harry to the persistent question of whether they _did_ have a future, whether Harry was perfectly right to doubt that Eggsy would want to be with him.  It made him wonder if he had succumbed to a dangerous weakness when he returned to the flat so quickly.  Whatever the near future held, he wouldn't have this closeness with Eggsy again once they left the flat.  Hadn't he told himself often enough not to grow dependent on Eggsy while they were texting?  Why had he let himself forget that when it was more important than ever that he remember?   

"I can practically hear you thinking," Eggsy said, voice faintly muffled by the covers.  "Get some sleep."

Harry didn't think he could possibly get much before he had to make his way to HQ and report- but it was worth lying down for a bit, so he did.  He lay down on top of the covers beside Eggsy. 

Eggsy didn’t seem to mind that distance between them.  He wiggled over to Harry’s side and quickly settled again.  “Goodnight, Harry,” he said sleepily, patting Harry’s chest. 

A warm, relaxed feeling that had eluded Harry all night suddenly overtook him.  He knew that he would have to have a proper conversation with Eggsy about all this- probably much sooner than he had originally intended- but he decided that, for now, he should enjoy what he had.  "Goodnight, Eggsy," he said in return.  Almost immediately, sleep called to him. 

Harry wasn't sure how long it had been- perhaps only a few moments, perhaps longer- but Eggsy nudged him.  "Hey," he said.  "Hey, Harry."

"Hmm?" Harry managed, pulling himself back into the waking world with an effort.  He owed it to Eggsy; it was his fault, after all, if Eggsy was having trouble settling down again.  Harry had woken _him_ up.  “What is it?”

“How come you aren’t married?"

Harry turned over onto his side to properly look at Eggsy.  Eggsy had thrown the covers back a little at he was staring at the ceiling, not at Harry.  There was a sharp line between his eyebrows. 

"Is it really just a married to the job thing, or-”

Harry considered the question, frowning.  "I didn't have some tragic disappointment early in life, if that's what you're asking.  I simply never... found the time to get that close to anyone."  It was true- but it was also true that he had never- even briefly- been with anyone he had really thought he could spend the rest of his life with, or for that matter who would have really wanted to spend the rest of their life with him.

“Do you think you and the job could ever work something out?” Eggsy asked, finally glancing sidelong at Harry. 

“For the right person?” Harry said, his mouth dry.  “Yes.  I think the job and I could.”  Eggsy didn't say anything else, and eventually Harry let out a long breath and rested his arm across Eggsy's chest lightly.  "Goodnight," he said again.

"G'night," Eggsy agreed. 

*   *   *

That morning, before Harry could even start to prepare his report, he received another message- this time from Merlin: _I think we found our connection._

Harry was getting better at disentangling himself from Eggsy.  He had enough practice, by then, to get up without waking him at all.  He brushed light fingers across Eggsy's forehead and then padded to the bathroom, shutting the door with a light click.  He turned his glasses on and stared straight at the mirror as he talked to Merlin, pitching his voice low so as not to wake Eggsy: “What did you find?”

Merlin’s voice filled his ears through the glasses.  “One of the names you found in Walker’s books rang a bell for Percival.”

“What’s the plan, then?”

“My research has led me to believe that the name is a false one, but we are probably still looking at the same person.  It’s the most likely connection to the ring we’ve found so far.  Percival wants to… have a talk with Walker.  It’s not ideal, given your situation, but from what you’ve told me he’s probably the one with the least idea of what he’s really dealing with here- so he should be the easiest to scare.”

Harry nodded.  He didn’t think Merlin was wrong about that, and of course this was Percival’s idea.  He wasn’t the kind to suggest something like this lightly- and he never failed to utterly terrify anyone he had decided needed 'scaring'.  Still, Harry was the one who had found the ring, and the one who had been watching Walker, and things with Eggsy had gotten so complicated.  A little action... well, it would hardly come amiss.  “ _I_ could bring him in.”

“No,” Merlin said immediately.  “For three reasons.  One, when I put you back into the field, you agreed that you would allow the other agents to handle the heavy lifting- and two, I’d rather you avoided burning your bridges with Walker in case we need you back at the club again.”

Harry felt himself nod again, but it was as though he was a distance away, watching himself.  _In case we need you back at the club again_.  He hadn’t forgotten, exactly, that the arrangement they had at the club wasn’t a permanent one- hadn’t he reminded himself just the night before that it would eventually be over, and probably soon?  Still, he hadn’t thought much about how the moment would feel when it came.

It felt like someone had balanced a boulder on his chest. 

Harry needed a few moments to fully recover himself.  “What’s the third reason?”

“I would have thought that was obvious,” Merlin said.  Harry saw himself frowning in the mirror, and Merlin obviously saw it too, because he huffed loudly.  “You have a... contact, I assume?  Someone who has been helping you blend in at the club since you’ve been spending so much time there?”

“Yes,” Harry choked out.  He wondered how Merlin had managed to work so much judgement into his tone.    

“And you don’t want Walker or any of his associates to suspect his involvement?”

“No.  Not at all.”

“Good,” Merlin said, a thread of sarcasm running through his approval.  “So keep your head down until Percival is finished, and then get yourself out of there until we know where we stand.  Understood?”

“Yes, Merlin.”

“Good,” Merlin said again. 

Harry supposed it was safe to assume that Merlin was finished with him, so he turned his glasses back off again and lingered by the sink for a moment, splashing water on his face and trying to decide when to wake Eggsy and tell him what had happened.

It turned out that he didn’t need to wake Eggsy, though- when Harry opened the bathroom door Eggsy was already sitting up in bed, looking serious.  “What’s going on?”

“One my colleagues is going to move on Walker.”

“Is he gonna be back?  Walker, I mean?”

“Most likely,” Harry said, leaning his shoulder in the doorway.  “It will depend on what information he can give and whether we’ll be more likely to catch a bigger fish with him here or not.  He might still be arrested or otherwise caught in whatever comes next, though.  Things are... rather in flux at the moment."  

Eggsy nodded.  “What about us?”

“More watching and waiting, for the moment,” Harry said.  “We don’t want anyone to think there is any connection between you and I parting ways and what’s about to happen.”

“But we're gonna part ways?”

“We’ll have something of a falling out in the morning,” Harry said, putting it as simply as he could.  "For the benefit of anyone Walker has keeping an eye on us."  He had to make sure Eggsy knew that this was just the job.  “Until then…”

“Yeah, I know,” Eggsy sighed.  “Watching and waiting.”

They didn't have to watch and wait for long.

Percival was very good at what he did.  Harry knew that, of course-so he was hardly surprised when Walker returned only a few hours after being captured on his way to the club, shaken up and jumping at shadows but showing no sign of being suspicious of anyone around him, let alone Harry.  He and Eggsy still spent the night with bated breath, keeping an eye out for any unusual behavior. 

Harry got the feeling- whenever he glanced Eggsy's way- that he wasn’t the only one burying himself in work to avoid thinking about the future this time. 

When Harry woke the following morning- their last morning- Eggsy was actually awake before him.  He was sitting up in the bed with his back against the headboard, watching Harry.  “Time for the falling out?” he asked quietly. 

“I think so,” Harry said.

"Do we hafta... shout at each other and all?"  Eggsy’s voice was quiet, his face lined with concern.

Harry hadn't exactly planned out a script for them- but if he had he would have rejected it when he looked at Eggsy just then.  "There's no reason our falling out can't be a quiet one."

Eggsy looked relieved.  “So what _are_ we doing, exactly?”

"You’ll have to act as normal going forward," Harry said slowly.  "Well... not as normal, exactly, I know that things like this don't happen to you every day, just... do-”

“Whatever I’d do if this had been real?”

“Yes.”

Eggsy nodded a little jerkily.  “I can do that.”

Harry hadn’t seen Eggsy this tense since very early in their acquaintance, if ever, and it troubled him.  “Then why do you look so worried?”  He was willing to do whatever he had to do to make this easier for Eggsy. 

Eggsy shrugged, picking at the duvet cover.  “I'm not _worried_ , exactly, I just… this is pretty sudden.”

 _Ah._ “The nature of the job, I’m afraid.”

Eggsy nodded again, the gesture a little smoother.  The lines on his face didn't fade, though, not completely. 

On impulse, Harry reached out and cupped his cheek gently.  Eggsy's skin was as warm as ever, but now he no longer flinched even faintly when Harry touched him.  "Things will go back to normal before you know it.”

Eggsy leaned into his hand.  “I guess I just got used to _this_ being normal.”

“So did I,” Harry admitted.  “But we’ll talk soon, and once everything has blown over we’ll find a way to see each other, all right?”

Eggsy nodded. 

Apart from when he woke up with Eggsy in his arms, Harry hadn’t touched him this much since they met.  It made not leaning in and kissing him- always a struggle- even more difficult than usual.  _Not yet_ , Harry told himself.  It would be better, better for both of them, to wait.  They would see each other again, once everything was sorted with Walker, and then they would talk, and figure out where they were going from here. 

“All right,” Harry said again, as much to himself as Eggsy.  He lowered his hand, and crawled out of the bed.  Not matter how many times he told himself that it was for the best, there was still a bad feeling in his guts. 

He and Eggsy dressed and packed up their things, working around each other with an easy familiarity that Harry knew beyond all doubt he would miss terribly while they were apart.  Even if everything went perfectly when they talked Harry knew that he couldn’t exactly ask Eggsy to move in with him so soon.  That was hardly the done thing.

Eggsy left first, with a duffle bag over his shoulder and a hurt look in his eyes that Harry worried wasn’t entirely fake. 

Harry left too, and did the only thing he knew how to do: he went back to work. 

Despite his promise to Eggsy that things would go back to normal soon, they... didn't.  Merlin put Harry back into the field after all- chasing down a few unrelated gunrunners.  It was easier work than their efforts to hunt down the ring, but necessary- or so Merlin claimed.  Harry believed that it was necessary, yes, but easier?  Not so much.

Before he left, Harry sent Eggsy a few messages.  Eggsy sent a few back.  There was no time for things to even out before Harry was out of communication for a whole week.  He spent the first while trudging through rainforests, then tracking down the last of his gunrunners halfway across the world, hiding in an abandoned ski cabin and thinking about what he would say when he could finally talk to Eggsy again. 

Harry was still thinking about that when he found the men he was looking for.  He dispatched them even more quickly than usual.

When he checked his phone on the plane home, Harry expected to find a few messages from Eggsy waiting for him- but he found none.  He frowned at the phone, wondering if he had wrongly presumed something. 

He dialed Eggsy's number- and a voice on the other end said that the number was no longer in service.

What that meant, in terms of Eggsy’s safety or lack thereof, Harry couldn’t be sure.  And so he sat there on the plane, and realized that he knew of nowhere that he could be absolutely sure to find Eggsy.  He thought about all the bugs he had never planted on Eggsy, all the things he had never pressed Eggsy to tell him.  And he also realized that there was a line between allowing Eggsy privacy, independence, and _trust,_ and knowing almost nothing about him- and he was on the wrong side of it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I'm meant to look like your husband, yes.” Harry finally let his hands rest on Eggsy’s waist. Even after so many nights in the same bed, touching Eggsy like that felt... big. Bigger, perhaps, than it was- not that he had much choice either way. He would have to touch Eggsy a lot more before the night was through. He would have to be familiar about it, easy. “Rather than like I’m going to bend you over the buffet table.”_
> 
> _Though his smirk remained fixed in place, something more flashed through Eggsy’s eyes, and the hand on Harry’s shirtfront clenched. “Ain’t mutually exclusive, are they?” Eggsy asked. “Nobody's gonna think that you married me for my money.”_
> 
> _“You don’t think I could pass for a gold digger?”_

The flight back to HQ was the longest in Harry's memory. 

Harry was well-versed in that effect.  He knew how minutes, hours- even days- could pass in the blink of an eye when a man was running for his life or hunting down another man who had the fate of the world in his hands.  He knew, too, how time could pass at a crawl when that man had somewhere he needed to be but was entirely at the mercy of distance. 

He also knew that the effect was purely a mental one.  That he had made a flight of approximately this length many times before, and that it was taking as long that day as it had on any other.  And yet... And yet enough thoughts chased each other through Harry's head that it might as well have taken _years_.  

For a while, Harry actually tried to convince himself that it was for the best.  That he had only been looking for excuses, there at the end, to keep Eggsy in his life when they were simply too different for their... 'friendship' (if indeed it was a friendship at all) to last.  That coincidence may have brought them together over and over, but in the end there was no such thing as fate, no such thing as 'meant to be.'  It wasn't some kind of sign that they kept finding each other, or that they were strangely suited to each other, or that they were so easy in one another's company.  And the things Harry had found himself wanting, there at the end... they simply weren't things a man like Harry could have.  Yes, perhaps it was for the best if he and Eggsy went their separate ways.

Immediately on the heels of these thoughts came the certainty that they were nonsense.  If indeed he and Eggsy were to go their separate ways one day, it would not be until after Harry made sure that he had not left Eggsy worse off than he had found him.  It was possible that whatever trouble Eggsy was- or wasn't- in was of his own making- but it was equally possible that his acquaintance with Harry had come back to haunt him in some way.  And whichever it was, Harry would only leave him to deal with it alone if Eggsy asked him to.  _Perhaps_ , Harry thought a little grimly, _not even then_.

And Harry simply didn't want to never see Eggsy again, even if he was perfectly safe.  He was furious with himself for not taking steps to make such a thing impossible.  He knew that he could still track Eggsy down- that all he had to do was ask Merlin for help and he- they- would be able to find him in only a few hours. 

Harry didn’t ask Merlin, but he suspected that he wouldn’t be on the ground long before he broke down and did.  

Harry landed around suppertime in London, not that he was very hungry.  Almost everyone still at HQ would probably be in the dining hall eating.  Merlin most likely wouldn't be, but an arrival at this time of night was often a good excuse to avoid officially reporting in until morning.  Harry decided to use his rooms at HQ; there he had a bite to eat, showered, and crashed.  He was tired enough to fall asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow, but his sleep was still uneasy.  He dreamed of old regrets that had left him more or less alone since he met Eggsy.  Of sand and smoke and things he hadn't seen until it was too late.   

He wondered if he had made the same mistake all over again, only in a different way. 

The next morning, Harry was still groggy when Merlin dragged him into a briefing.  He made his report at last and turned in his equipment.  Then he nursed a cup of coffee while Percival, Gawain, and a few of the others who had been brought in while Harry was busy with Walker updated him on their progress hunting down the ring.  

It wasn't much, unfortunately.  They had a name for the intermediary Percival had zeroed in on- a name and some personal information, including his intentions to be at another charity gala that very night, but not much else.  That meant Harry had something far more valuable: an excuse to ask for Merlin's help tracking Eggsy down right away. 

Their man called himself McAvoy- which Merlin still doubted was his real name.  Percival hadn't gotten much out of Walker except that he had showed up at the club a few times, met some men Walker didn't know, and gone on his way again.  Since Eggsy hadn't been a regular there before Harry came along it was possible that he had never seen the man in question- but he still had a history with Walker, so it was also possible that he _had_ met McAvoy and would know him on sight.   

It was tenuous, Harry knew- but he was a tiny bit desperate.  There was something else he knew about how tricky the passage of time often was: a week could be like forever when a mission had gone wrong.  Harry didn't know that Eggsy was in trouble, but it didn't keep him from imagining dozens of scenarios in which he was. 

Harry was still caught up in these thoughts when Merlin brought an end to the meeting.  Merlin noticed that he was distracted, but since the supposedly easy mission he had sent Harry on had turned out so grueling, he apparently decided to go easy on him.  "Are you all right, Galahad?" he asked with uncharacteristic gentleness.  

"I'm fine," Harry said.  "I've had an idea regarding our man McAvoy.  I'd like your assistance with it."

Merlin's eyes narrowed.  "The only assistance I'm tempted to give you is toward a vacation.  After what you've just been through-"   

"If this doesn't pan out, I'll go, I swear," Harry said.  He meant it.  It had ultimately occurred to him that tracking Eggsy down on his own might actually be the best idea.

Merlin crossed his arms.  "All right," he said.  "I'll bite.  What is this idea of yours?"

Harry opened his mouth, but before he could answer he received a message from someone down in the tech branch.  She had been monitoring the credit card he had given Eggsy.  It had been used several times that morning.     

Ever since he realized that he didn't know how to get in touch with Eggsy, it had felt like there was a vice around Harry's chest.  That tightness eased with dizzying quickness.  Harry had to remind himself that it might not necessarily be Eggsy who had used the card.  He also didn't care; whether it was Eggsy or not, at least he had a lead.

Within the hour Harry found himself in the back seat of his car, eyes flickering over each shop where the card had been used, searching for some hint of what had happened.  He hadn't searched long before he saw Eggsy sitting at a bus stop not far down the street. 

Eggsy was surrounded by bags and boxes, parcels of every shape and size.  Harry saw a high-quality pram, a number of stuffed toys and educational games for babies and toddlers, and a larger array of pacifiers than Harry had thought were made by man.  Harry saw other things he couldn't identify even if pressed, but he suspected that they too were for the under five set.  All the bright colors and fanciful shapes seemed out of place beside Eggsy's gloomy expression.  The way his jaw twitched and he straightened up when he saw Harry's car let Harry know that Eggsy had been expecting him.    

Harry asked his driver to stop, then he climbed out and leaned against the side of the car.  "Hello, Eggsy," he said, Rainmaker tapping on the sidewalk. 

Eggsy waved one hand.  The day was cloudy and the light wasn't good- but Harry could still see pronounced circles under Eggsy's eyes.  Harry didn't remark on them, didn't ask Eggsy if he'd been sleeping.  He just waited.  Finally Eggsy said, "It weren't you."

Harry lifted a brow.  "What's that?"

“It weren’t you I changed my number ‘cos of.  If you wondered.”  Eggsy’s eyes flashed and Harry finally determined the source of Eggsy's combative expression: he wasn't sure that Harry would care if Eggsy had been trying to avoid him.

Harry didn't know how Eggsy could doubt it, but he supposed that if he had learned anything over the last while it was that doubts were pernicious things.  They sometimes defied logic.  "I'm glad," Harry said softly.   

Either the words or Harry's tone seemed to thaw Eggsy, who nodded slowly.  "I lost my phone- and some stuff was going down so I changed the number.  I didn't think how I'd lose yours until after, and then I didn't know how to get in touch with you."  Eggsy fiddled with one of the bags, twisting the handle around his finger.  "I wasn't sure the card would still work, but I thought maybe you'd have somebody watching it."  He glanced around himself, biting his lip.  "I'll return this stuff.  I will." 

"You don’t have to.”

Eggsy gave him a hard look.

Harry put up his hands.  "My employer will pay the bill," Harry said- neglecting to mention that items like these would almost certainly come out of his pay.  It wasn't like Harry needed the money.  "If it bothers you, feel free to return everything.  But you don't have to."  

Eggsy swallowed heavily.  "There something I can do for you?  You know, to-"

 _Pay you back_ went unsaid, but it hung heavily in the air between them.  Harry let out a long breath.  He desperately wanted to pay for the gifts Eggsy had impulsively bought for his sister- because _of course_ that was all Eggsy could think to do when he suddenly had money to burn- simply because he cared for him.  But he knew if he did it would not be simple for Eggsy.  So he said, "Isn't there always?"

He opened the car door.  Eggsy climbed in without hesitation. 

Harry climbed in behind him, asking his driver if he would be so good as to load Eggsy's purchases into the back of the car.  "That way you can decide what to do later," he told Eggsy.  

"Yeah," Eggsy said, nodding jerkily.  "Yeah, okay."

Harry half expected Eggsy to get right to business, the way he had when they first took the flat above Walker's club.  But Eggsy didn't bring up the job Harry had mentioned right away.  Instead, he settled back against the leather, looking around at the interior of the car. 

In most particulars it was just like the one Kay had been driving when he picked Harry up the night he and Eggsy met, the one they had returned Eggsy to his street corner in all those months ago.  Harry wondered if Eggsy was marveling at how much had changed since then, at least between them.  Harry certainly was.  He realized that he didn't know what his life would be like if he had been right that night.  If he had never seen Eggsy again.   

On impulse, Harry reached for Eggsy.  He took it slow all the same, slow enough that Eggsy could dodge him if he wanted to.  Eggsy didn't, and Harry's fingers closed around his shoulder.  "How have you been?" Harry asked.  He hadn't decided, yet, how much he ought to ask about what 'stuff' exactly had gone down. 

Eggsy let out a long breath.  "Okay, I guess. My stepdad's back.  And things are... well, they're different now."

"In a good way or a bad one?"  Harry had his suspicions, of course- strong ones- but everything Harry had told himself about not taking liberties with or making assumptions about Eggsy's life was still true, even after the scare of the last few days. 

Eggsy shrugged without much enthusiasm.  "We need the cash he brings in, we always have.  It's not- you know- a lot, but..."

Harry nodded, squeezing his shoulder lightly.  "But from a less selfless standpoint you wish he was still in prison."  That much Eggsy had all but told him before.  Harry hadn't forgotten. 

Eggsy gave another half shrug, but then he said, "Yeah."

"Then why do you stay?"  Eggsy could have been sitting on that bus stop with suitcases.  Or, if he didn't know that Harry would have taken him in in a heartbeat, he could have used the credit card to rent a hotel room or even find another place to live.

"I need to be there for my mum and the baby."

Harry nodded.  He knew how much taking care of them meant to Eggsy; he had grown rather protective of them himself by proxy.  "And where are they now?"  

"Dean told her she ought to pay her sister out on the coast a visit."  An odd move for a man just out of prison, and one that suggested to Harry that the 'stuff' Eggsy had referred to was probably both illegal and dangerous.  He remembered what Eggsy had told him, back when they first found themselves in the flat above Walker's club, about his stepfather's friends and their plans for the future. 

If Eggsy's mother and sister were currently out of the picture, Harry could take him away from all this for a bit and he wouldn't have to worry about what was happening at home.  _And later?_ Harry asked himself.  He didn’t know.  He surprised himself by not letting the matter go.  “Why use the card today?”

Eggsy chewed his lip and looked down at his knees.  “I wanted to see you.”

“Is that all?”   

“Why?"  Eggsy's eyes flew wide.  "Would you clear up all this for me?  Get rid of Dean and his mates?”

Harry couldn't really blame Eggsy for that look.  Eggsy may have implied that Dean wasn't a good man- but so far whether he was a bad one remained in question.  Harry had never bothered with small-time thieves- in fact, he was currently in the company of one now.  "If you asked me to, yes.  I would."  It was true.  Harry was out of breath with how true it was, his chest feeling too small to accommodate everything inside of it. 

“Fuck,” Eggsy breathed when he believed Harry.  “And what if I _didn’t_ ask?”

"I would want to know that you were safe.  I would want to do everything I could to make sure you were."  Harry reached out and took Eggsy's hand.  His fingers entwined with Eggsy's softer, smaller ones.  "But I understand that things are complicated for you.  I can't barge in and do whatever I think is best, not if I respect you.  And I do."

Eggsy nodded, biting his lip again.  It looked so pink and soft, slipping from between his teeth.  Harry wanted to kiss him so much. 

It was selfish and stupid and _wrong_ , that this was part of Harry’s consideration.  He couldn't forget just how much money he had paid Eggsy over the course of their acquaintance.  It colored... too much between them.  So many times since they'd known each other Harry had been sure that Eggsy wanted him too- and so many times he had also convinced himself that Eggsy couldn't possibly feel that way.  And thus in the back of his mind Harry was always afraid that he could never truly know where gratitude ended and something more began.  He wanted- needed- Eggsy to be able to come to him if Dean ever crossed- or had _already_ crossed- the line between (in Eggsy's words from long ago) 'dickhead' and _danger_ to Eggsy or to the rest of his family.  But what if Eggsy thought it came with a price tag?

Harry had told himself over and over that things would be less complicated once they left the club, that when things were less complicated he and Eggsy would talk.  And then, before they could even have that talk, things had gotten complicated again in a whole new way.  Perhaps they always would.

He swallowed heavily and tore his eyes away from Eggsy.  He didn't want that to be true.  He looked out the window as they got under way, the city speeding by.  He didn't have to think about it for now, he decided; for now Eggsy would be with him.  Safe with him.  Provided, of course, Eggsy wanted that.  Harry turned toward him abruptly.  “You know you don’t have to help me if you don’t want to, don’t you?  I-”

Eggsy’s eyes crinkled.  “I want to, Harry.  In case you couldn’t tell, I kinda love this shit.”

And just like that, things were back to what passed for normal between them. 

“So?” Eggsy asked after a beat.  "Where are we going?"

“We’re going to a tailor’s shop.”

There was another beat of silence while Eggsy waited for Harry to explain himself further.  Harry waited him out.  "Why?" Eggsy asked at last.  

"Because we need to pick up a suit, among other things."  Those 'other things' included convincing Merlin that this wasn't a terrible idea, but Eggsy didn't need to know that.  The suit at least was more or less taken care of.  He had ordered one for Eggsy weeks ago.  Just in case. 

Harry told Eggsy what Kingsman knew about McAvoy, and Eggsy nodded thoughtfully.  "Think I remember him.  Like I said, Walker's club wasn't one of my usual haunts, but I met him once when I was there.  He wasn't a customer or anything, though he did show an interest."

“When was this?”  Harry didn't sound troubled, but he'd had to work at it. 

“Before you, if that’s what you’re asking."  Maybe Harry hadn't managed to keep his voice so even after all.  Eggsy sounded amused.  "Knowing he’d ever so much as looked at me when I had somebody like you coming every day woulda fucked him up.  The guy’s a nervous wreck.”

Harry frowned, considering that.  He had been rather building a suave supervillain up in his mind- but it was true that most of Merlin's research had painted their man as middle management at best.  "What does he look like?"

Eggsy described a scrawny man with oily dark hair.  "He's got money, I think, but not class.  He definitely don't have a lot of confidence.  He was always talking big about the people he worked for, but not everybody believed him 'cos he was such a mouse.  No way a guy like that made it big, you get me?"

Harry wasn't completely sure he did, but he nodded.  He supposed a man who went from the charity galas Percival had been monitoring to a club like Walker's would necessarily stick out in one or both places.  It had to be better to stick out in such a harmless way.  "And you could pick him out of a crowd for me, Eggsy?"

"I think I could, yeah," Eggsy said.  His cheeks colored with, Harry thought, pride and perhaps even pleasure.  "What kind of crowd?"

Harry smiled at him.   

*   *   *

Merlin was pleased when Harry told him that his idea for identifying McAvoy had panned out after all.  He was less pleased when Harry told him what, exactly, his idea had been. 

"Absolutely not," Merlin said.  "You are not taking a civilian into the field, I don’t care how vital to the mission you claim he is.  Do you understand?  I do not care.” 

“Of course you care,” Harry told him.  He was on the opposite side of Merlin's office, and since he was reasonably sure that Merlin wouldn't throw his clipboard at him- he probably thought the clipboard deserved better- he felt safe making the remark.  “You always care.”

Merlin growled at him. 

"Look, how much information about this man did Percival really get out of Walker?  Very little, right?  Do you feel comfortable assuming we'll be able to identify him with what we have?  I don’t have to remind you that the gala tonight is the last place Percival is sure we'll be able to find him, do I?"

“No,” Merlin said through gritted teeth.  “You do not.”

“So why bother with all the song and dance?”

Merlin let out a deep sigh.  "This was supposed to be Percival's assignment.  Your part in it was supposed to be over."

"Percival requested backup.  I'm doing him one better.  I have a description of our man, but someone who could personally identify him would still be invaluable- you _know_ that."  

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Give me strength.”

“Listen, Merlin,” Harry said.  “My... contact is very intelligent.  He's cool-headed, he can handle himself, and he's the reason my time at Walker's club went so smoothly.  Anyway, if McAvoy spots us or if I have to engage with him, I'll have a cover already in place because of him.  And since he's part of this already..."

"Practically one of us, eh?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Harry said, though he wanted to.  He was looking forward to tonight, to working with Eggsy- and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if he could do so again, perhaps even regularly.  He had thought before that Eggsy would make a good spy, and lately he was thinking he would make a good Kingsman.  It wasn't possible, of course- Arthur might accept a candidate from outside their usual recruiting pool because the rules forced him to, but no one was dead and Harry was hardly going to hope that that would change.  And Arthur would never create a new position for someone like Eggsy.  Still, it was nice to imagine it. 

Merlin sighed again.  "All right," he said at last.  "But no theatrics."

"I give you my word."

"All right," Merlin repeated, though he look skeptical.  "Off you go, then.  I assume you left your... _friend_ in the shop?" 

Harry nodded.

"Good.  It will be up to you to clothe him.  Good luck finding something to your standards in the time frame you’re dealing with.”  Merlin smirked as he left.

Harry held his head high as he returned to the shop.  The suit he had had made for Eggsy wouldn't be as perfect a fit as it would have been had he brought Eggsy in for a fitting, but it would certainly do the job.  Harry smiled to himself, imagining Merlin's astonishment.  His smile faded as he realized that it wouldn't take him long to work out the truth.  And anyway, he wasn't wrong about one thing; Harry couldn't help but want Eggsy's suit to be nothing short of perfect.   

Indeed, "I suppose it will do," was exactly what Harry found himself saying a few hours later, in one of the dressing rooms, after Eggsy had put on the suit and tugged Harry inside to get a look at it. 

Eggsy- who had been eyeing his reflection with a great deal of satisfaction- stared at Harry.  “You ‘suppose it’ll do’?  I look like a completely different person in this.”

He somehow managed to be both right and wrong about that at the same time.  The suit did flatter his figure to a surprising degree, and that- combined with a proper shave and a haircut- made Eggsy look quite transformed.  It also made Harry want to never do this again.  Because there was also something about Eggsy that was completely unchanged- something in the gleam of his eyes and the curve of his lips, and in the way he held himself, that no piece of clothing could alter.  Harry didn't say so because Eggsy would likely take it as an insult, but Harry wouldn't mean it that way.  Eggsy was who he was.  Harry might give him new clothes and a few lessons about polite society that he didn't really need, but he wouldn’t be able change what was underneath.  He wouldn't want to.

“All right,” Eggsy said, eyes narrowing.  “What’s the problem?”  He turned towards Harry with his chin held high.

“It's nothing to do with you,” Harry told him.  Beyond a passing thought that he wanted Eggsy back in his snapback, it was true.  He adjusted the line across Eggsy’s shoulders, frowning.  “It’s only that I would have preferred to get you fitted properly.”  He sighed.  “I know your measurements fairly well, but it’s hardly a substitute.  Unfortunately, we don’t have the time.”

“You know my measurements, do you?”  Eggsy waggled his eyebrows.

“Yes, Eggsy,” Harry said.  “I do.”

For a moment Eggsy looked torn between further teasing and a serious line of inquiry.  Whichever choice he was leaning towards, Harry could see that he was very, very interested in Harry’s knowledge of his measurements.  Harry wondered what use Eggsy would put it to if given the chance.  Eventually, Eggsy seemed to decide against either, and he just said, “Really?” with a slight smirk.  He dragged his eyes over his own reflection.

Harry, lingering by Eggsy’s side, held his gaze in the mirror.  “Really.”

Eggsy looked away first; his gaze flicked down to his shoes.  Harry kept looking at him and he could see in Eggsy’s face that he may have won this round, but Eggsy wasn’t quite done with him yet.  Harry looked down himself to hide the tiny smile tugging at his lips. 

When he had his face back under control, Harry said, “I need to get ready myself.”  He retrieved a file that Merlin and Percival had put together containing all the pertinent information about the gala and their covers there.  “You should study up.”

Eggsy took the folder and Harry shooed him out of the room. 

Harry changed into his own suit with practiced quickness and ease.  When he walked back out of the dressing room, Eggsy was perched on a settee, legs spread in a very ungentlemanly fashion.  He was a picture, all the same, with his shining hair drawn back from his forehead and a little line between his eyebrows as he read the file.

"Sit up straight and put your knees together,” Harry said. 

Eggsy obeyed without looking up.  Then he glanced at Harry, back down at the file, and then back up again, his mouth going slack.  “Fucking hell, Harry.”

Harry wasn't exactly insecure about his looks.  He had always known that he was a handsome man, and if he perhaps attracted a more select group than he once had, he certainly wasn’t bothered about it.  He knew, too, that the tuxedo he was wearing was- unlike Eggsy’s- specifically tailored to flatter him and that it did, to an extraordinary extent.  And he had combed his hair in a way that drew particular attention to the flashes of silver around his temples.  The biggest problem with having Eggsy on his arm at an event like this would be the age difference, and since there was no hiding it, Harry had decided to flaunt it. 

So Harry was by no means unaware of the impression he made- but there was a world of difference between knowing that he looked good and having Eggsy _stare_ at him like that.  Harry had never thought it quite so apt to describe a look as burning before, and it seemed to him that the flames in question might burn the tuxedo right off him.        

But this was Eggsy, so the look of astonishment didn’t last long.

His mouth closed and his lips pulled upward into a smirk.  He rose and stalked forward, resting a hand on Harry’s chest.  “So,” he said, setting the file folder on a nearby table.  He had judged the distance perfectly, lingering close enough for Harry to feel his heat keenly but not close enough to touch him anywhere else.  Harry’s hands, hanging loose at his sides, curled into fists as he fought the urge to reach out and draw their bodies together.  “Can I get you anything?”  He looked up at Harry through his eyelashes, and Harry couldn’t help the long breath that whooshed out of him when Eggsy leaned closer, chest molding itself to Harry’s, and kissed his jaw.  “Champagne, maybe?”  He pressed another kiss to the cleft in Harry’s chin.  “Honey?”

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, almost- _almost_ \- keeping his voice even.

Eggsy drew back just enough for Harry to see his eyes sparkling.  “Just practicing.  You’re meant to look like my husband, ain’t you?  That’s what the file says.”

That was indeed the cover Merlin had decided to construct- that after their week above Walker's club Harry's divorce had been finalized and they had eloped.  Harry didn't think anyone who had ever seen him at the club would be at the gala tonight- except for the intersection of McAvoy they were very different worlds- but it was nice to make the story of how he and Eggsy knew each other line up just in case. 

Harry was privately pleased with the decision; he liked the idea that when he had told Walker that circumstances might change he hadn't meant that he was giving Eggsy up after all. 

"I'm meant to look like your husband, yes.”  Harry finally let his hands rest on Eggsy’s waist.  Even after so many nights in the same bed, touching Eggsy like that felt... big.  Bigger, perhaps, than it was- not that he had much choice either way.  He would have to touch Eggsy a lot more before the night was through.  He would have to be familiar about it, easy.  “Rather than like I’m going to bend you over the buffet table.”

Though his smirk remained fixed in place, something _more_ flashed through Eggsy’s eyes, and the hand on Harry’s shirtfront clenched.  “Ain’t mutually exclusive, are they?”  Eggsy asked.  “Nobody's gonna think that you married me for my money.”

“You don’t think I could pass for a gold digger?”

Eggsy huffed out a breath like reluctant laughter and his hand relaxed.  “No way.  Anyway, we’re still in the honeymoon period, yeah?”

"Technically we haven't even left for the honeymoon yet, so yes."

Eggsy smiled in a less predatory manner.  He patted Harry’s chest and disengaged, or tried to.  Harry kept his grip on Eggsy’s waist and Eggsy let him, obediently going still.

Harry kept one hand on Eggsy and fished around in his pocket with the other.  “Here,” he said.  Two silver wedding bands gleamed in his palm. 

Eggsy sucked in a breath and took one.  There was something entirely too complicated for Harry to read on his face.  Harry remembered Eggsy saying _like I wouldn’t have run away with you the day we met_ and suddenly it was hard to breathe. 

Harry released Eggsy’s waist to take Eggsy’s left hand in his.  It was so warm, and Harry had a hard time letting go even after he had slipped the ring onto Eggsy’s finger.  In fact, he didn’t let go until Eggsy’s fingers wrapped around his own hand, turning it.  Eggsy’s fingertips ran across his knuckles and down his fingers.  When he slipped the ring on it seemed to take him _years_ , and Harry held his breath for every second of it without even knowing why. 

Eggsy cleared his throat abruptly and dropped Harry’s hand.

Harry let him go that time, and Eggsy had started to walk away when Harry spoke to him again.  “Wait,” he said.

He wondered when he would stop having reasons to call Eggsy back, when Eggsy would stop looking at him with that vaguely expectant glint in his eyes, when he would stop saying things that were so clearly not what Eggsy was hoping for.  “Yeah?”

It wasn't tonight, anyway.  “There’s something I should have asked earlier.”

Eggsy didn’t quite look disappointed- he looked amused and curious and slightly wary- but there was something in the set of his shoulders that told Harry that he was.  “What?”

“Two things, actually,” Harry corrected himself.  “First-” best start with the easy one-“can you dance?”

The look of amusement intensified.  “I take it you don’t mean street dance.”

Harry snorted.  “No, Eggsy.  Ballroom.”

“I do, yeah.  Don’t come in handy too much, but I took some classes back in day.  Quit a while ago, but I think I still got the basics.”

“Good.”

“What’s the other thing?” Eggsy asked when Harry stayed quiet for too long. 

“Do you have any… ground rules?”

“Ground rules?” Eggsy sounded doubtful.

“As you pointed out, we are meant to be married.  And as you just demonstrated, we will get… closer than usual while we’re in there.  If there’s anything that you’d like me to avoid doing, you should tell me now.” 

Harry noticed for the first time that Eggsy had gum in his mouth when he popped it loudly.  “I don’t kiss on the mouth,” he said.

It was, Harry supposed, a joking reference to the movie Eggsy had lain awake watching that night, that last night before everything changed for Harry- and now that Harry was considering any similarities between Pretty Woman and this situation it was difficult to stop.  Harry didn’t think that Eggsy could have more effectively drawn Harry’s attention to how not true that statement was with anything less than _actually_ kissing him on the lips.  And just like that Harry’s mouth was watering for it.  Just like that his eyes snapped to Eggsy’s lips, and Eggsy’s tongue flicked out because he had planned it just like this.  Harry wanted to bite those lips and suck on that tongue.  He wanted to know what flavor gum Eggsy was chewing and to find out if he remembered Eggsy’s taste well enough to find it underneath the taste of the gum.  But instead of doing all that Harry said, “Fair enough.”

The look on Eggsy’s face was best characterized as, _I don’t know what I expected_.

Harry flashed a smirk of his own.  He retrieved his coat and thew it over his arm.  Then he crossed the distance between them and kissed Eggsy briefly on the cheek.  “Come along then,” he said.  “ _Honey_.” 

He caught a brief glimpse of Eggsy rolling his eyes.

Harry paused, briefly, when he reached the door.  “Oh- and Eggsy?  Spit it out.”

And Harry didn’t even need to see Eggsy that time.  He could _hear_ him rolling his eyes.

*   *   *

They arrived at the gala on Harry’s usual side of fashionably late.  Percival and Lancelot- who had volunteered himself as Percival's additional backup- were already inside.  Harry climbed out first and held a hand out for Eggsy, who pulled a face but took it all the same. 

Once he was standing, though, Eggsy looked at the building and all of the well-dressed couples making their way inside, and he just... stopped. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, holding Harry’s hand painfully tight.  “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Since their cover story was almost completely the truth, Eggsy had little to do but be himself tonight- and if that had led him to a crisis of confidence by the car, then it was Harry's job to do as his likewise effortless cover (as a man utterly besotted by Eggsy) directed him.

He held on to Eggsy's hand and reached for him.  He cupped the side of Eggsy's head gently and reeled him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  Just like that, pinned between Harry and the car, Eggsy seemed to relax completely.  Harry turned his head, running his mouth along Eggsy’s temple and his ear.  “I forgot something else,” Harry said.

“What?”

“It's in the left inner pocket of my coat,” Harry said.  “If you haven’t taken it already.”

“I would never,” Eggsy sniffed.  His voice- and the cadence of his breathing against Harry’s neck- was already returning to normal.  “You mean the cigarette case?”

Harry laughed.  “Yes,” he said. 

Eggsy withdrew the item in question.  “What does it do?”   

“It holds cigarettes.”

Eggsy pouted.  “Is that it?”

“It looks very nice while it’s doing it?” Harry offered.  He could hear people talking and music from inside, but he fancied that right now, for Eggsy, the rest of the world didn’t exist.  That effect was hardly less pronounced on Harry himself, if he was honest.

"That's not very James Bond."  Still, Eggsy hardly looked disappointed as he examined it.  "Is it for me?”

“If you find you need to get away for a while, smoking is always an excellent excuse.”

“Thanks,” Eggsy said, pocketing the case.  He looked pleased for a moment, then suspicious.  “Don’t tell me that if there’s trouble you’re planning to send me outside.”

“I won’t tell you that I wouldn’t,” Harry said.  “But I don’t expect any trouble.  I just meant if tonight gets… overwhelming for you.”

Eggsy softened.  “Thank you,” he murmured, kissing Harry’s cheek and lingering there for a long moment.  He whispered in Harry’s ear, “If you think I’d leave you if there _was_ trouble you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I believe you,” Harry said.

Eggsy withdrew, leaning back against the car.  His saucy grin was back in place and his fingers were still twined around Harry’s.

Harry squeezed and lifted their joined hands.  “Shall we?”

Eggsy smiled.  “We shall.” 

Just as Harry had hoped, Eggsy seemed to have gotten his confidence back in spades by the time they made their way up the walk toward the front doors.  There was a bit of a swagger in his step and the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he glanced around.  “How did somebody like McAvoy get himself invited to a place like this, anyway?” he asked.

“I thought you said he had money,” Harry said, letting go of Eggsy’s hand only to put an arm around his waist and gather him close.  That way, Eggsy could tell him such things quietly enough that they wouldn't be overheard. 

“Enough money to get Andy to act like it was fucking Christmas every time his scrawny arse showed up.”  He gave Harry a look.  “That’s not a _lot_ of money.”

"Well, the people he works for are undoubtedly high profile enough to net him regular invitations to places like this."  Why he wouldn't have a corresponding income Harry wasn't sure.  Maybe he had merely constructed a persona good enough to fool Eggsy- or maybe he was even more on the fringes of the ring than Harry had initially thought. 

"Good for them, I guess."

Harry nodded. 

They reached the doors and Harry waved his invitation.  The man at the door admitted them without a second glance, and someone else arrived to take their coats and hang them in the enormous closet to one side of the entrance hall. 

Inside, people with fine clothes were in tight groups, holding champagne flutes and chattering amongst each other.  They stared about as much as Harry would have expected them to, the story behind Eggsy's presence at his side probably readily obvious even though none of them had ever set foot in Walker's club.  Harry could see the question in some of their eyes- _why would Eggsy marry him?_ \- and the answer which must have seemed so obvious.  It shouldn't have bothered Harry, wouldn't have if he didn't himself worry that they might be right.

Something which in turn wouldn't bother Harry so much if he wasn't head over heels for Eggsy.  But he was, even if he hadn't put it together in his own mind until recently.  Suddenly pretending to be Eggsy's husband seemed unutterably difficult- because he wanted it to be real.   

Harry hadn't really thought about marriage before.  It would be much too early in their relationship to suggest it even if he and Eggsy had been dating all this while, rather than... whatever they were doing.  But it still brought him up short to picture it now. 

Eggsy, who had come to a stop at Harry's side, seemed to sense his sudden panic.  Having been talked through his own doubts, he seemed undaunted by Harry's.  He pressed up against him.  "You all right?" he asked. 

"Yes," Harry managed after a moment.  "It's just that-"

 _I've always told myself how easy it was to fake being in love with you without letting myself fully realize how deeply I_ am.  Harry couldn't say that.  He did still need to talk to Eggsy about his feelings- it was wrong to keep him in the dark for much longer- but this wasn't the time or the place for such revelations. 

 _I’ve been mad for you for such a long time._ Also no.  Not in the middle of a crowd.  Not on a mission. 

 _I’ve been wondering if you would ever marry me._   Certainly fucking not. 

“I’ve just forgotten what we’re meant to be doing,” Harry joked instead.

Eggsy clearly knew that Harry was lying, but he let Harry lie.  He also let Harry draw him closer still and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I remember now,” Harry told Eggsy, nose buried in his hair.     

“Good, because I don’t think your friends want me trying to do your job.”

"All we have to do is identify McAvoy," Harry pointed out.  "But you're right."  He and Eggsy made their way from the entrance hall into the ballroom proper, and once they were in position Harry leaned closer to Eggsy so he could speak to Merlin over the glasses without drawing further attention to himself.  “We're in position,” he said. 

“Thank heavens,” Merlin remarked. 

“Should we get drinks?” Eggsy asked.

Harry didn’t get a chance to answer.  “Someone who might be our man is headed your way, Galahad,” Lancelot reported over the glasses. 

"Understood," Harry said in a low voice, angling his head toward Eggsy. 

The ballroom was both large and busy, and there was only so much space Harry and Eggsy could reasonably cover without drawing attention to themselves even if they split up- but they needed to be on the move to properly keep on eye out for McAvoy.  Although most of the interest was only passing, Harry couldn't deny that he and Eggsy were getting odd looks.  It was probably best that they put Eggsy's old lessons to use after all.  

Harry leaned close and brushed his lips over the shell of Eggsy's ear.  "Dance with me?" he asked. 

When he felt Eggsy nod, Harry tugged him toward the center of the room. 

Some of the people already on the dance floor looked as if they were trying out for a ballroom dance competition, and though Harry didn't think Eggsy would have told him he could dance unless he was confident that he wouldn't make a fool out of either of them Harry didn't want to be too adventurous.  He was sure the two of them could establish themselves as a couple entirely too enamored of each other to care about how good they looked. 

Accordingly, Harry drew Eggsy closer than was usual for the style of music being played- the closeness, he told himself, would make it easier for him to lead Eggsy, easier for Eggsy to intuit where to go next.  He kept one hand on Eggsy's waist and took his hand with the other, keeping one eye on the man who had just slipped into the ballroom matching Eggsy's description.  

“Can you see him?” Eggsy asked quietly.  He sounded breathless.

“I think so,” Harry replied.  Besides looking much as Eggsy had said he would, the man's eyes were darting around the room like he was looking for someone.  Harry used his next move to turn them, allowing Eggsy to look at the man in question over his shoulder.  "Is that him?"  

“Oh yeah,” Eggsy said.  “That’s him all right.”

Harry drew him away from McAvoy’s direct line of sight, not wanting Eggsy to catch his attention.  While they were technically prepared for the eventuality that McAvoy might recognize Eggsy or even approach him, Harry still preferred to avoid it if at all possible.  Harry let his mouth rest close to Eggsy's ear.  "He looks like he's keeping an eye out for someone," Harry said, both for Eggsy's benefit and Merlin's.

"Yeah," Eggsy agreed.

"Percival, do you want to wait and grab whoever McAvoy is meeting with as well?" Harry asked. 

Harry heard Percival hum quietly.  "I'd like to know what we're dealing with first."

"Fair enough," Harry said.  In the meantime, he scanned the room.  "If you were someone of means meeting the representative of a weapons dealing ring in a place like this, how would you look?"

Eggsy made a thoughtful noise as Harry spun him around.  He used the opportunity to glance around the ballroom with this in mind.  Harry smiled.  Eggsy was so good at this.  “Like her, I think."

When the dance led him in that direction, Harry looked.  The woman Eggsy had indicated was calm, collected, and beautiful- everything McAvoy was not- but she was clearly on the lookout for someone too, and when she saw McAvoy... "Very good, Eggsy." 

Eggsy colored faintly, then winked.  "I guess my career as an international weapons dealer is at hand."

Just for that, Harry dipped him.

One of Eggsy's hands lay flat against Harry's heart.  "Wow," he murmured. 

When Harry righted him, Eggsy stayed close- so close their limbs were all but tangled- and for a moment they were both at a standstill, Eggsy's slighter body almost completely covered by Harry's own.  Slowly, Harry disengaged enough to start them moving again.  McAvoy did indeed head toward the woman Eggsy had spotted.  At the speed he was creeping, he might even be there before the end of the year.  Harry related what he saw for those who didn't have Merlin's view.  "Are you familiar with her, Percival?"  As Harry recalled, Percival's original leads had all been men. 

"I don't recognize her, no," he heard Percival say.  "But I would certainly like to learn more."

"Then we should move on both of them," Lancelot agreed.  "Grab them together if they leave that way, or take one each if they separate."

"Either way," Merlin picked up, "you two are watching them, nothing more."

"I understand," Harry said.  He could be reckless, he wasn't about to deny that- but though Eggsy had proven he could take care of himself Harry still didn't intend to put him at risk if he could help it.

Merlin sounded pleased.  "Excellent."

"What's up?" Eggsy asked.  He didn't have his own pair of glasses and couldn't hear what Merlin had to say. 

"We have more watching and waiting in store, as usual," Harry reported.  "My friend was just reassuring himself that I planned to keep my nose out of everything else."

"He knows what a trouble magnet you are, don't he?"  Eggsy was grinning. 

It was difficult to protest when he looked so gorgeous.  For a second all Harry could do was stare at him, rapt.  

He thought: _if he was mine, I’d kiss him now_.  And Eggsy was supposed to be his tonight, after all.  And if Eggsy was his Harry would kiss him right on his smiling mouth- but though he was fairly sure that the _I don’t kiss on the mouth_ line had been nothing more than teasing, nothing more than a _dare_ , Harry had still given his word and he had no intention of going back on it.

So he kissed Eggsy’s cheek, right where it was dimpled around the grin on his face.

Eggsy’s hand gripped Harry’s shoulder tightly and Harry drew closer to him, pulling him into an almost-hug, one arm now wrapped completely around his waist.  Eggsy fingers fluttered wrapped against his own.  Harry let his thumb slip down to rub across Eggsy's wrist.  His pulse was racing.  

Harry pressed his face against the side of Eggsy's head, kissing him again.  He walked them around a little so he could keep watching McAvoy, but only half his concentration was on the job.  He inhaled against Eggsy's hair.  Eggsy smelled like the cologne Harry had gotten from the shop for him- the kind Harry used himself- but under it Harry could still find traces of something familiar, something distinctly Eggsy.

“Harry,” he heard Eggsy say.  Eggsy’s pulse sped up further still.

“What is it?”

“I-”  

Eggsy didn’t finish.  The music stopped briefly, the couples around them drawing away from each other.  Eggsy stiffened slightly under Harry’s hands.  A moment later McAvoy arrived beside the woman and stopped too.  Harry thought, a little wryly, that he was lucky it happened in that order or he might have forgotten to check what McAvoy was doing completely. 

Harry's face was still pressed against the side of Eggsy's head.  He kept his eyes on McAvoy as he pressed a final kiss there- one for the road, proverbially speaking- and then let Eggsy go.  

The moment Harry's hands left him Eggsy took several steps back.  "Sorry," he choked out.  His face was a bit flushed.  "I have to- um-" he waved the cigarette case half-heartedly, and a second later he was gone. 

Harry was reminded, perhaps bizarrely, of Cinderella fleeing her prince- and Harry wanted to chase Eggsy, of course he did.  But if Eggsy needed to be away from him for a moment, Harry needed to respect that- and anyway he had a job to finish. 

"Our targets are on the move," he reported to the others.  They seemed to have only talked for a moment; perhaps McAvoy had passed something off to her while Harry was distracted. 

"Together or separately?" 

"Separately."

"Understood."

Harry listened with half an ear as Lancelot and Percival moved to intercept their separate targets.  A moment later Harry heard the click of Merlin taking him off the party line, and then Merlin spoke again: "Far be it from me to encourage such distractions on a mission, but I think you'd be safe to go after him."  He managed to sound warm and fond and highly judgemental all at once.

"Yes, Merlin," Harry agreed immediately.  It was obvious that Merlin meant Eggsy.

As he headed out of the ballroom, Harry almost smiled.  He'd often suspected that, deep down, Merlin had a soft spot for him.

Harry considered where Eggsy was most likely to have gone. Harry had given him the cigarette case so he would have an excuse to go outside and get some fresh air- but Harry didn't think that was actually where Eggsy would go if he was feeling fragile.  No, he would go somewhere enclosed, near to the exit but not fully outside.  

Harry ducked into the coat closet, and sure enough Eggsy was there, pacing near the mirror way in the back.  He was spinning the cigarette case fitfully in his hands.  The closet was poorly lit but blissfully empty, and Harry could cross right to Eggsy without worrying about how it would look to anyone.  He gripped Eggsy's elbows, straining to make out his expression in the dark.  “Are you all right?”  

"I dunno," Eggsy said quietly. 

“Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit longer?"  Harry tightened his grip reflexively, but he would go if Eggsy asked.  

Eggsy was silent for a moment, then he shook his head.

Harry took a breath.  "You were trying to say something to me earlier.  Can you explain what it was?”

Eggsy's mouth twisted and he ducked his head.  “I was gonna say that you gotta tell me, Harry.”

“Tell you what?”

Eggsy didn’t answer right away.  He shoved the cigarette case into his pocket.  Harry still couldn't see much- but he could see the determination growing in Eggsy's eyes.  “You gotta tell me if I'm wrong.  'Cos you don't act like you don't want- like you don't want-" Eggsy's voice went quieter- more hesitant- suddenly, as if he had been trying not to even let himself think it- "like you don't want- well, for us to be _together_ together.  You didn't kiss me like you didn't want me that first night, and you didn't dance with me like you don't want me now.  And all those nights, you didn't hold me like you didn't want-"

He didn't finish, and Harry let out a long breath and settled against him.  "That's because I do.  I-"  he couldn't help his own trace of hesitation- "I do want to be with you."

Harry had thought that Eggsy must have been sure, to say what he just did, but then Eggsy sighed- with relief?  Harry couldn't say- and, like he hadn’t been sure at all, asked, “Yeah?”

Harry had also thought that, to ask him the way he had, Eggsy must have felt the same- but it wasn't until he saw the smile that lit up Eggsy's face that Harry was sure.  And when he was sure, he needed to be closer to Eggsy.  Immediately.  It took so little effort to back Eggsy up until he was flat against the mirror.  Harry propped one hand up on the glass beside Eggsy's head and cradled Eggsy’s elbow in the other.  “Yes,” he said, voice a growl he hardly recognized as his own.  “Of course I do.”

His face was right up against Eggsy's, and Eggsy nuzzled his nose, getting closer by the tiniest of increments.  Harry could hardly breathe for his closeness.  “You know,” Eggsy said, voice low and sultry.  “It occurs to me that it was a little too late for the ‘I don’t kiss on the mouth’ rule to do either of us much good.”

“Possibly,” Harry agreed, eyes locking to Eggsy’s lips- as Eggsy had undoubtedly intended. 

And this time Harry realized that there was no good reason not to take him up on it, and it hit him like a punch in the gut.  He felt stupid for doubting Eggsy just now.  He felt stupid for having doubted him all this while.  He had often thought that Eggsy had to want more from him- that nothing Eggsy did made much sense if he didn't want more from Harry- but he had allowed fear to paralyze him without ever considering that Eggsy must have been just as afraid to be wrong about what was happening between them.  He had never thought that he might not be the only one keenly aware of how complicated things were.  That he might not be the only one who had been waiting for a perfect moment to clear the air, only to realize that there might never _be_ a perfect moment.  

And Harry had talked far too much about his respect for Eggsy to look at him now and say he didn't know his own desires. 

Harry leaned closer still, close enough to feel Eggsy's breath, to taste it. 

"Galahad?"

Harry drew back sharply, gesturing to his glasses so that Eggsy would know that it wasn't anything he did.  Only when he felt Eggsy- who had stiffened- relax against him again did Harry pull away fully, turning around to get a little privacy.  “What is it?” he asked Merlin. 

"Percival has McAvoy, and Lancelot has the woman he was talking to.  Your part in this is over."

“Good,” Harry said, keeping back a sigh of relief by a worryingly narrow margin.  If he’d had to go back in there with Eggsy on his arm after _this_ , well- there was only so far gentlemanly behavior could stretch.  “May I go dark?”

“Yes.”  It was immediate, sour but still indulgent, fond.  “Please.”

Harry laughed softly, clicking off the glasses.  He turned back to Eggsy, who was slumped against the mirror.  His face was downturned, in shadow and impossible to read, though that didn’t keep Harry from trying.   

“Mission over?” Eggsy asked.

“Yes.”

"So we're off the clock?”

"Yes," Harry said again.  He took a breath.  “Would you... like me to take you home?”  If the call from Merlin had thrown cold water on things, if Eggsy wanted to put this on hold for a bit longer, Harry would understand. 

“Only if you mean yours,” Eggsy replied.  His eyes flashed like coals in the dark.

Harry almost choked.  "In the interests of preserving this cover- just in case- Merlin actually rented us a room in the hotel down the street."  Harry wanted so much to take Eggsy home with him- and later, he assured himself, he would.  But for now-

Eggsy smiled, slow and a little predatory.  He pushed off the mirror.  “Good.”  He crossed to Harry, laying his hand flat against Harry’s chest.  “Lead the way,” he said, but he actually made for the door first, leaving Harry briefly to himself. 

Harry took a breath.  The touch of Eggsy’s hand seemed to have left a physical mark on him even through his clothes.  It _burned_.  “Right,” he said to himself.  “Right.”     


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It was another exercise in how time could pass in a flash or at a crawl depending on what was happening. The final distance to the hotel- just a few steps, really- seemed to last for an age._
> 
> _Harry thought about the night he and Eggsy met. He remembered kissing Eggsy what felt like a thousand times, and reminding himself what felt like a thousand times that once the door shut behind them nothing would happen, that he couldn't have this beautiful boy he had chanced upon on a street corner. And now, when he_ could _have Eggsy, he was afraid to so much as touch him._
> 
> _Harry's resolve almost cracked. He almost took Eggsy's face in both hands and kissed him._

Eggsy was already out the front door by the time Harry caught up with him.

When he did, Eggsy smiled- a dazed, dark-eyed thing that made Harry's mouth go dry.  Harry settled at his side and lifted a hand to steer him the right way down the street, but he stopped just shy of actually touching him.  His fingertips dragged at the hem of Eggsy's jacket.  He thought anything more might be too much.     

Harry wondered at himself was they walked in charged silence.  He had been touching Eggsy all night, and he had wanted Eggsy all night- what had changed?

 _We’re about to share a room together_ , Harry thought.  They had done that so many times, but now- at last- it was to no innocent purpose.  Harry was afraid that if he touched Eggsy again- if he touched him properly- he wouldn't be able to keep things within the bounds of propriety for even the short journey to the hotel where that room was waiting.   

Eggsy cast an amused look toward Harry’s hand and- as if he could read Harry’s mind- said, “Afraid you’re gonna ravish me in the middle of the street?” 

Harry glanced at him sidelong.  “It’s a distinct possibility.”

Whatever Eggsy saw in Harry's eyes turned the tips of his ears pink.  There was more thickness than bravado in his voice when he said, "Maybe a little public indecency wouldn't hurt."  He leaned back until Harry's palm was pressed flush to the small of his back. 

Harry's fingers flexed.  "Perhaps not," he said quietly.  "Then again, we've been a little indecent all night." 

"You think so?"  Eggsy leaned a bit more.  "Then what's the harm?"

They were close to the hotel already, and there was no easy answer to that question.  Eggsy was so warm, and it wouldn't take much for Harry to pull him into a kiss.  They _had_ been a little indecent all night- and while it wasn’t strictly the behavior of a gentleman, Harry would hardly be the first man to throw propriety to the winds on the way to a hotel room and a shared bed.  “Because,” Harry finally answered, “that was for show and this is for us.  I want this to be for _us_.”

Eggsy opened his mouth, but before he could speak a woman brushed past them.  Harry hardly got a look at her as she went on her way, but it was enough to make his point for him. 

As much as it might feel like it, they weren't the only two people in the world.  Others were headed toward their own homes and hotel rooms.   Now and then a car sped by. 

"You're right," Eggsy said softly.  He put a little more distance between himself and Harry.  

It was another exercise in how time could pass in a flash or at a crawl depending on what was happening.  The final distance to the hotel- just a few steps, really- seemed to last for an age.

Harry thought about the night he and Eggsy met.  He remembered kissing Eggsy what felt like a thousand times, and reminding himself what felt like a thousand times that once the door shut behind them nothing would happen, that he couldn't have this beautiful boy he had chanced upon on a street corner.  And now, when he _could_ have Eggsy, he was afraid to so much as touch him. 

Harry's resolve almost cracked.  He almost took Eggsy's face in both hands and kissed him.

And then-

They were inside. 

Harry took a deep breath and looked around.  He couldn't help comparing this hotel to the one on that first night.  The difference could not have been more pronounced.  It was all chandeliers and soft light, classical music playing unobtrusively in the background while a fresh-faced and smiling young lady asked Harry what she could do for him. 

For Harry, it all passed in a blur.  He gave his cover identity and showed corresponding ID, and soon she was handing him a room key.  With Eggsy doing a slightly awkward shuffle at his side, Harry thought their intentions for the evening must have been incredibly obvious to her.

She was far too professional to show it.

The man operating the lift was much the same.  Harry's room was two floors up, and with a hotel employee between them the distance was painfully long.  Looking at them, at their clothes, their faces, their conspicuous lack of luggage, the man must have known what was happening as surely as he would if they had been kissing- but he kept any opinion on the subject off his face.  It was still one of the more awkward civilian experiences of Harry's life, and he suspected Eggsy felt the same.

Harry had every intention of making what was to come worth the awkwardness- and the wait.   

Once free of the lift, they went down the hall and found their room.  Harry produced the key and unlocked the door with faintly shaking hands.  He held it open for Eggsy, who rolled his eyes.  Harry thought that was for show.  Underneath, Eggsy actually looked charmed as he walked inside. 

Harry followed, put up the Do Not Disturb sign just in case, and let the door click shut behind him.  Then he turned to look at Eggsy. 

He was standing by the foot of the bed, with his back to Harry.  Harry leaned against the door for a moment, just watching him.  The room was lit only by the streetlights streaming in through the curtains, and Eggsy was ethereal in the half-dark.  The suit didn't look quite right on him- not because of his background or because he wasn't good enough for it, but because he seemed almost... supernatural.  Like a sprite Harry had captured, somehow, by dressing him in human clothes.  

Harry wasn't given to such flights of fancy.  To break himself out of it, he flicked on the light.  It barely helped; Eggsy's hair was shot through with gold, and the pale curve of his neck shone bright and vulnerable.  The cut of Eggsy's jacket wasn't strictly proper, but it drew the eye to the taper of his waist and the plushness of his arse.  Harry doubted he was the first person to stare tonight; he liked that he could be the last. 

He swallowed and pushed off the door.  Eggsy turned slightly, giving Harry his profile, and he smiled faintly when Harry reached out and then paused, waiting for permission to touch. 

When Eggsy gave it, Harry rested a hand on the back of his neck. 

Eggsy leaned into his touch.  "Thought you liked the lights off,” he murmured, harkening back to the day they met.

Harry ran his thumb over the highest knob of Eggsy's spine and ruffled his hair with his fingers.  "I didn't want to look at you properly, not then."  At the time, Harry had been thinking primarily in terms of not letting Eggsy see _him_ \- but as he looked back now Harry knew that he also hadn't wanted to see much more of Eggsy.  Hadn't known what would become of him if he did. 

Eggsy looked straight ahead of him, toward the painting above the bed.  Harry had no idea what it depicted; he didn’t care to take his eyes off Eggsy long enough to find out.  “And now?” Eggsy asked.

“I don’t want to look at anything else.”

“You’re a fucking sap,” Eggsy told him, voice rougher than usual.  He turned to meet Harry's eyes, careful not to knock his hand away.  “Ain’t you?”

Harry shrugged.  No one had ever accused him of that before. 

Eggsy's face was very close now.  His tongue darted out over his lips.  "Harry."

Harry fractionally tightened his grip on the back of Eggsy's neck and leaned in a little.  "Just a moment," he murmured.  Eggsy was so lovely in this light.  Harry wanted to fix the sight of him in his mind- forever, if possible. 

“I’ve waited long enough,” Eggsy said.

“So you have,” Harry agreed, and crushed their lips together. 

The first second of contact was little more than Harry pressing his lips against Eggsy's- but it was electric.  One second became two and then Eggsy made a noise that didn't seem altogether human and turned the rest of his body, still careful not to dislodge Harry's grip on his neck.  He threw his arms around Harry's shoulders. 

And then they were flush against each other, and it was perfect.  Harry's hand slid up into Eggsy's hair and cradled his skull.  Eggsy whined against his lips, letting Harry's tongue in immediately when he pressed for admittance.  Eggsy did indeed feel- and taste- as good as Harry remembered, but the extent to which he gave himself up to the kiss was something new.  He clung to Harry's back as Harry gave him the ravishing he had asked for out in the street. 

They were both breathless when Eggsy finally broke the kiss- and even then it was only to reach out and remove Harry's glasses, stashing them in Harry's pocket with a wry grin. 

"Do they bother you?" Harry asked.  Eggsy had given no sign of that last time. 

Eggsy shook his head.  "I like how you look in them.  I just don't want you getting another call.  I don't want you even _thinking_ about it."

Harry thought about reminding Eggsy that he had asked to go dark and turned them off, that there would be no calls tonight.  He decided it wasn't worth quibbling over, not when he hated the idea of an interruption as much as Eggsy probably did.  "No?" he teased all the same, nosing close to Eggsy's face again.  "I thought you loved this stuff." 

Eggsy made a choked off noise, half-laughter, half-growl.  "Not right now.  I don't want you thinking about anything but me tonight."  His eyes went soft as Harry nuzzled him.  "And I don't wanna think about anything but you."

"Understood," Harry murmured, and kissed him again.   

Harry would have happily continued in that vein for hours, so it was Eggsy who tugged them backwards at last- but Harry didn't exactly protest.  He just kept kissing Eggsy until the backs of Eggsy's knees hit the bed, jarring them together. 

They tumbled out over cool, expensive bedding.  Beyond a general feeling that Eggsy deserved the best, Harry couldn't care less what the sheets were made of.  He had slept in some very uncomfortable places in his life, and he would happily tolerate any one of them to have Eggsy at last. 

And Eggsy felt so perfect pressed up against him, so right.  Harry was tempted to just stay where he was, but Eggsy wriggled underneath him, and Harry let him up.  "Forgot," Eggsy said, grinning.  He tugged off his socks and shoes, setting them neatly on the floor by the bed.  "It's always awkward otherwise, yeah?"

"Indeed," Harry agreed.  He did the same, feeling surprisingly bashful.  This had been easier when he was caught up in the heat of the moment, though he knew there was something to be said for rationality and calm.  He and Eggsy did need to talk further- about what exactly they wanted out of this encounter beyond each other, if nothing else.  He glanced toward Eggsy, searching for the right words.

Harry knew for a fact that looking under his lashes at someone had worked better for him when he was younger- but it seemed to be working on Eggsy pretty well.  Too well, perhaps.  He growled and grabbed Harry by his lapels.  "Where were we?" he asked, grin turning a little savage.  He pulled Harry back on top of him, kissing him all the while, and it wasn't long before Harry was overcome again.   

He pressed little kisses to Eggsy lips, over and over and over again.  He only drew away to press his face into the crook of Eggsy's neck, hoping to cool down enough to remember the other things he had intended to say. 

Eggsy was having none of it.  He squirmed against Harry.  "C'mon," he hissed.  "Harry-" 

It took Harry a second to intuit what he wanted.  He slotted a leg between Eggsy's parted thighs, and Eggsy gave a satisfied groan.

Harry barely kept back a groan of his own.  Eggsy was gratifyingly hard.  It was enough to make Harry give up on talking for a while longer.  He kissed back up to Eggsy's lips and clumsily sealed their mouths together.  Eggsy sucked on Harry's tongue and wrapped one leg around Harry's waist, rutting against him. 

"Eggsy," Harry breathed out as his own hardening cock found a home against Eggsy's hip.  Desperation made him sloppy and he pressed a multitude of kisses around Eggsy's lips and jaw. 

"Fuck, Harry-" Eggsy caught Harry's mouth for another kiss, this one open-mouthed and hot- " _fuck_."

"What do you want?" Harry finally managed to ask.  "What do you _like_?" 

"Thought that was my line," Eggsy said.

Harry kissed him again, hard, and he pressed his thigh up against Eggsy's cock, just firmly enough to make him squirm all over again.  "Not tonight it isn't," he growled. 

"Yeah."  Eggsy was breathless, staring at Harry with wide eyes and blown pupils.  "Yeah, okay."

"So-" Harry gave him a softer, sweeter kiss- "what-" another kiss- "do-" another- "you-" _another_ \- "like?"

Eggsy just stared up at Harry for a beat, then two.  Then he said, "I want you inside me.  That's what I'd like."

Harry's cock, already hard, stiffened further.  He couldn't keep his hips from rocking against Eggsy a little- he wanted that too, of course he did.  But he couldn't help hesitating, couldn't keep from wondering if Eggsy really- "Are you sure?"  Harry gulped in a breath, struggling to think straight.  "There's no need for that if you aren't.  I wouldn't at all mind... _anything_ else."

The smile on Eggsy's face was faint, but his eyes couldn't have been brighter.  He nodded.  "I hear you.  But I _am_ sure.  Harry-" his fingers curled into fists around Harry's jacket- "you got no idea how much I've thought about it, how much I've-"

That was what broke Harry's resolve.  He kissed Eggsy again, fiercely.  He couldn't stop himself. 

Eggsy kissed him back with equal fervor, his body surging up to meet Harry's at every possible point.  "Please," he said against Harry's lips.  "I want you so much."  

"Yes," Harry said softly.  He gentled the kiss, gentled _Eggsy_ , as best he could.  "Yes, and you can have me.  But... we've got all night.  Just let me...”  Harry rested his forehead against the side of Eggsy's face and touched his hair tenderly.  "Just let me take care of you, all right?"

“Yeah,” Eggsy said, breath hitching.  Slowly, he relaxed back onto the bed.  "Yeah."  

Harry kissed him once more, on the cheek and on the chin, and then he backed off until he was on his knees between Eggsy's legs and looking down at him.   

Eggsy's new suit was rumpled and his hair was disarranged.  There was color high on his cheeks and a dark intensity in his eyes- but there was a softness there too as he met Harry's gaze and held it.  Harry wanted to take him apart in all the best possible ways.  He was fully aware that there was little virginal about Eggsy, but his behavior made Harry suspect that he'd had far less experience than he deserved with what Harry had in mind.   

Harry bent again, stroking a hand over Eggsy's forehead.  He kissed him once more, slow and wet, and with his other hand he undid Eggsy's tie and tossed it aside.  

"Hey, now," Eggsy said with a breathless laugh.  "I dunno how much that shit cost, but I don't think you're meant to treat it like that."

"Indulge me, dear boy," Harry murmured, undoing the first button of Eggsy's shirt and looking on the barred expanse of his throat with satisfaction.  "My pocketbook and I are more than willing to deal with the consequences." 

Eggsy's response- whatever it might have been- became a throaty half-laugh, half-gasp when Harry pressed his lips to his pulse-point and sucked gently. 

A red mark blossomed and Harry kissed it away.  “I would buy you a thousand and do this every time.”

That time Eggsy managed to speak, but it was only, "Harry, _fuck_ ," as Harry peppered kisses all over his neck.  Eggsy's fingers came up to clutch at Harry's shoulders again, and they dug deep when Harry found one spot in particular to lavish his attention on.  Harry thought they might just leave bruises.  He hoped they did; he wanted Eggsy to leave marks on him. 

He wondered if Eggsy wanted the same.  As he undid another button, he flicked his gaze up to Eggsy's face.  "May I?" he asked as he ran his mouth along Eggsy's collarbone, leaving it slick and shining.

"Yeah."  His intent had been clear, judging from Eggsy's breathless tone.  "Hell yeah."

Harry bit down lightly and sucked just hard enough to leave a mark that would take a day or two to fade completely.  _Perfect_.  He kissed it softly, and kept kissing it as his fingers returned to the buttons of Eggsy’s shirt, undoing them one by one.  Only when he had the shirt unbuttoned to Eggsy's belly did Harry let himself slip his fingers underneath, pushing fabric away.  Eggsy hadn't worn an undershirt, which Harry might have chided him for under different circumstances- but it meant he met bare skin right away, and he could hardly regret that. 

Eggsy hissed as Harry touched him, just lightly at first, dragging his nails up Eggsy's stomach and tweaking over a nipple.  The little hitches in his breath, the soft sighs, were music to Harry's ears.

He pulled Eggsy up a little, enough to peel his jacket and shirt over his shoulders and toss them away.

This time Eggsy didn't protest the slovenly behavior.  Instead he lay back down, never taking his eyes off Harry, and let him have his way.  

As a reward, Harry gave him a long, wet kiss.  He loved how Eggsy took his tongue, sucking on what Harry gave him and then chasing his lips when he drew away.  Harry let Eggsy catch him, thinking about how Eggsy would take his cock.  Harry pulsed in his pants at the thought.  _Later_ , he told himself.  As much later as either of them could stand.   

Harry ran his hands along Eggsy's shoulders as they kissed, savoring every bit of soft skin he could finally, finally put his hands on.  Eggsy was spread out in front of him like a feast, and it was difficult to know where to begin.  

"Perfect," he murmured.  “You are absolutely perfect.”

Harry had little doubt that Eggsy had been told that before- but perhaps no one had meant it quite so much.  Or perhaps Eggsy had never _wanted_ anyone to mean it quite so much- whichever it was, he looked up at Harry like he couldn't believe he was real, like he couldn't believe they were here, at last, together.  

Never in his life had Harry wanted a single night to last forever as much as he did in that moment.

He reached out and touched Eggsy with both hands, eager to familiarize himself with every bit of him.  Eggsy wasn’t as bony as Harry had fancied he was when they met.  Had he overreacted?  Or had Eggsy been able to feed himself better thanks to all of Harry’s payments?  Harry had always loved feeding him, and he loved clothing him, and he wanted to give Eggsy everything, everything he would take.  For now that meant this, Harry himself, and he intended to enjoy every second.  He ran a hand along the flat line of Eggsy's stomach, and the wedding ring he wore hit the light and glowed.  Harry had forgotten about that.  Even though he knew it wasn't real, Harry liked how the ring looked on Eggsy's skin.  He bent, kissing Eggsy chest and then working down to his faintly-protruding hipbone. 

“Harry,” Eggsy choked out as Harry nuzzled down the trail of sparse hair that led to his waistband.  “Please.”

Harry met Eggsy’s eyes, steadily, and unbuckled his belt.  Eggsy stared back at him with something approaching awe, mouth slack and entirely too tempting for Harry not to kiss him again, sucking at his lips as he eased off the belt.  Then he backed off again to turn his attention to Eggsy's trousers.   

Eggsy was so hard Harry fancied it was painful.  Harry bent and rubbed his cheek against Eggsy's cock through his trousers.  He had been thinking about this for such a long time; he wasn't going to rush now.  He undid Eggsy's trousers slowly, so slowly, and Eggsy made a soft whining noise as he lifted his hips so Harry could shuck his trousers and pants with more ease.  

This finished, Harry rested his palms on Eggsy's thighs, which were as well-muscled and gorgeous as Harry could have imagined.  And Eggsy's cock stood up between them, already glistening with pre-come. 

Harry licked his lips reflexively and backed off, reaching into his inner pocket.  He withdrew a package containing lube and a couple of condoms, some flavored and some not.  How regularly he had taken to carrying the selection with him would have been pathetic if they had never gotten this far.  As it was, Harry was simply pleased with his foresight. 

Harry carefully slipped one of the flavored ones onto Eggsy’s length.  He was a little sorry to see that bit of wetness disappear underneath the condom; he actually rather liked the taste.  Harry doubted Eggsy would have gone even this far with him without mentioning it if they had anything to worry about, but this was one area in which Harry preferred to play it safe.  He thought to himself that maybe later on- once they had talked more about what was between them and what it meant- that might change, but it was an idle thought only.

He was too busy relishing what he had already. 

As he finished, Harry gave Eggsy's base a light squeeze.  Eggsy whimpered again, his head rolling back against the bedclothes.  Pleased with that reaction, Harry touched him some more.  He liked the feel of Eggsy's cock sliding heavy and hot within the circle of his fingers.  Between one moment and the next, Eggsy picked his head up and started watching him again, just watching.  Harry didn't look back at first- too mesmerized by the sight of Eggsy's cock disappearing and reappearing in his fist- but then he _did_.    

That awed look was back, in full force.  Harry wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at him quite like that in his life. 

Harry held Eggsy's eyes as he bent and pressed a kiss to his cockhead. 

Eggsy's expression was more tender than lustful, at least at first- but then Harry kissed his cock again, wetter, and let his tongue flicker out over the tip.  Eggsy's eyes flared.  Harry smirked a little and went to work, pulling just the head into his mouth and giving it a good hard suck.

"Christ, Harry," Eggsy whispered, his head falling back again.   

Harry tried pulling him deeper- overeager, maybe, but perhaps he had missed this, or perhaps he was showing off, or perhaps this was Eggsy and Harry was always going to be a little greedy where he was concerned (or perhaps it was some of all three).  Harry worked down increments until his lips met his hand, and then he let his fingers uncurl and lie flat against Eggsy's thigh.  Eggsy's cock settled in his throat, testing his gag reflex after so long.  Harry swallowed around it.  

He certainly had missed this- the faint ache growing in his jaw, the musky scent filling his nose, the breathless immediacy of it overwhelming his senses- and he waited to pull off for as long as he could.  He stayed close even after he had, letting his labored breathing fan out over Eggsy's cock and thighs.  He felt dazed as he lifted his hand again, cupping the side of Eggsy's cock to kiss wetly up the side.   

Fingers appeared suddenly, brushing over Harry's cheek and jaw.  It took him a second to snap back into himself, and he looked up.  Eggsy was watching him, and touching him, and his hand was trembling faintly with... something.

"Hey," Eggsy said.  He seemed to be having as much difficulty breathing as Harry was.  "Can- can I-" his fingers slid up and into Harry's hair. 

"Ah," Harry managed.  He could see that Eggsy had been controlling himself, keeping still, not touching, not moving his hips.  He could see too that it had taken a toll, but that Eggsy would continue if Harry asked it of him.  

But Harry hardly wanted a passive partner, and Eggsy would hardly have stayed so close to Harry's mind and heart from the beginning if Harry had seen him that way.  Harry suspected that- while Eggsy had certainly been enjoying the proceedings- he still at least partially saw this as something he was doing _for_ Harry.  Harry didn't think Eggsy's work was entirely to blame for that, either- Harry thought Eggsy was by nature a giving person, someone who would probably always put the pleasure of others before his own.  That wasn't a bad thing, not in moderation- the key was finding a happy medium. 

Eggsy was still waiting, patiently, when Harry got his breath back and said, "Of course."  He managed a teasing smile, nudging Eggsy's cock with his nose.  "Haven't you noticed I like showing off for you?"  Harry rediscovered his other hand and put it over Eggsy's hand, shifting it until it rested squarely on the back of his skull.  "Let me show you this."

"Yeah," Eggsy said thickly.  His fingers curled inward, making a fist of Harry's hair.  "Yeah."  His other hand unclenched from the bedclothes as well and found Harry's face, lightly probing the hinge of his jaw.

Harry was still smiling slightly as he opened his mouth. 

Eggsy's hand flattened out on Harry's cheek while the other held tight to his hair, and he pushed inside, hips arching.  For a second Harry struggled to take him in, but then he relaxed his jaw, relaxed his throat, and _did_.  Harry looked at Eggsy, at his eyes, at the fierce and needy expression on his face- and he kept looking even as his eyes prickled and stung.  Eggsy's cock slid in and out between his lips and over his tongue, and at first Harry wasn't completely sure if it was his head that was moving or Eggsy's hips- and then he didn't care, because there was nothing, nothing in the world but Eggsy and the heat of him, the pressure, and the noises he made as he took what he wanted in slow but unrelenting strokes.       

And- in that sensational bombardment- Harry felt the hand on his face move.  A warm fingertip traced the line of his stretched-open lips, and Harry felt the metallic coolness of a ring against his cheek. 

Eggsy made a strangled noise and shoved deep. 

It took Harry a second to realize that Eggsy was coming; when he did, he sucked him through it- trying desperately to fix every little detail in his memory: Eggsy, pulled taut as a bow string, pulsing in his mouth, saying a dozen things that could have been curses or endearments or both at the same time. 

Eggsy's fingers relaxed almost the moment he was finished, but Harry kept holding him in his mouth, careful not to overstimulate, until he started to get soft.  Then Harry pulled away regretfully and stripped off the condom, tossing it in the nearby bin.  He settled back between Eggsy's legs, stroking his thighs gently, and waited for Eggsy to recover.  

"Sorry," was the first thing Eggsy said when he did.  He looked apologetic, but more wry than truly worried.  "I didn't think I was gonna-" he waved a hand- "just go off like that."

"Shh," Harry said.  "It's all right."

It was, even if Eggsy changed his mind about what they did next because of it.  Harry liked that he had made Eggsy lose control like that- especially when it struck him as very possible that Eggsy had been reacting specifically to the sight of that wedding ring against Harry's cheek. 

It let him hope for things he hadn't before. 

"C'mere," Eggsy said, cupping Harry's cheek and tugging him up and into a kiss.  

Harry just lay over him and between his legs for a while, enjoying how languid and sweet Eggsy was under his lips, under his body.  "Do you still-" he finally started.

"Yeah," Eggsy said, immediately.  "You think I'm gonna let you off that easy?"

Harry laughed, and on impulse kissed the tip of Eggsy's nose. 

Eggsy laughed too, and he was still laughing when Harry backed off and settled on his haunches to open up one of the lube packages and slick his fingers.  

"This... might go easier if you were on your stomach," Harry said after surveying Eggsy's sprawl for a moment.  "If that's all right."

Eggsy nodded gravely, but his eyes were still dancing.  He picked up one of the pillows and shoved it underneath his hips as he turned over. 

Harry would miss being able to look at Eggsy's face, but his mouth went dry at the new sight laid out before him.  Eggsy's arse was indeed as perfect as it had looked in those trousers.  Harry reached over, touching the smooth curve of one cheek before squeezing lightly, leaving behind a shiny trail.   

Sighing softly, Eggsy spread his legs a little more. 

Harry slid his hand between Eggsy's cheeks, just lightly fingering his hole at first.  Eggsy was so relaxed that one finger slid inside him with very little effort from Harry.  He moved to two almost right away. 

Eggsy felt phenomenal, and he laughed breathlessly when Harry told him so.  "Fuck yeah, I do."

"Good," Harry murmured.  He wiggled his fingers a bit, stretching him.  Eggsy was soft and tight at the same time- and so, so hot.  "You love this, don't you?" he said.  From the noises Eggsy was making as he moved to three fingers, working them in and out, Harry hardly doubted it- but he still wanted to be sure.  

"Yeah," Eggsy said.  "Yeah.  Feel so... full."

"Good," Harry said again.  Eggsy felt like warm silk stretched wide around his fingers- Harry couldn't wait to feel that around his cock, but he kept fucking Eggsy with his fingers, far beyond what was necessary to open him up.  He wanted to savor Eggsy's reactions, wanted to give him as much of that full feeling as he could for as long as he could. 

Eggsy moaned, pushing back against Harry's hand.  "Fuck, Harry.  Want- want your cock." 

"Yes," he said.  He bent and kissed Eggsy, right between the shoulder blades.  "Yes."  He wanted to take his time with Eggsy, wanted to see just how much tenderness he could take- but he wouldn't make him beg.  

Harry removed his fingers as gently as possible, but Eggsy still whimpered at the loss.  Harry stroked his arse gently and then tweaked the positioning of his hips a little before settling back again. 

It properly occurred to Harry for the first time that he had been so occupied with Eggsy that he still had even his _jacket_ on.  He couldn’t be bothered with it now; his fingers went to his trouser buttons, and he pushed his pants down over his hips until he could get his cock free.  It ached in his hand.  Harry slipped a condom on and slicked himself as quickly as possible, breathing deeply.

With both hands Harry spread Eggsy's cheeks and let his cockhead just run across the crease.  Looking down, he had to admit he liked the aesthetics of it- how he looked almost fully clothed, pressed up against Eggsy like this.  He repeated the maneuver once, then twice more.  The second time, Harry’s cock caught on Eggsy's hole and he wasn't sure which of them made that hissing noise.  That contact alone felt amazing when he had gone untouched for so long. 

Harry squeezed himself at the base and- still holding Eggsy open with one hand- guided himself inside.  After the first push he was in to the tip, and already the pressure was incredible.  Harry bit back a moan and slid deeper- slid deeper and kept sliding until he was completely buried inside Eggsy.  

He stretched out against Eggsy's back and pressed kiss after kiss to Eggsy's hair and the side of his face.  "Harry," Eggsy said, craning to catch his lips in a few open-mouthed kisses.  " _Fuck_."  

"Yes," Harry choked out.  Eggsy felt so very good.

Eggsy groaned, half-biting Harry's lips the next time he caught them.  "Harry," he snarled.  "Fucking _move_."

"Eggsy."  Harry pressed closer to him, realigning their hips but otherwise keeping very still.  "If I move- if I move I will come."  It was a little embarrassing, at his age- but Eggsy felt _too_ good, and it had been too long.  

Eggsy gave another groan.  "Bastard," he whispered, all affection and _need_.  "Then _come_ , Harry."

"Yes," Harry managed.  He sat back on his haunches, pulling a little ways out of Eggsy and then pushing back in, testing his control.  No, he wouldn't last very long at all.  He lifted Eggsy's hips a bit more, gripping them tight.

"Oh," Eggsy moaned, burying his head in the bedclothes.  "Oh yeah."

Taking that as his go-ahead, Harry started to move in earnest, fucking into Eggsy in hard, long strokes that shortened almost immediately.  Harry filled him once more, then again, and then a third time, following the pressure that was building inside him.  When he found it, Harry had to let himself go, coming in shallow thrusts that seemed to send sparks all the way through his body.     

Harry was still seeing stars, still coming a little, when he collapsed against Eggsy's back and curled an arm around his hips.  Eggsy had gotten hard again, and Harry only stroked him a couple of times before he was coming too, shooting out across the pillow and Harry's hand. 

Harry was shaking, faintly, as he kissed the side of Eggsy's face a few more times and then rolled off him. 

Eggsy rolled over too a moment later, his elbow brushing against Harry's.  "Wow," he said.

He sounded impressed, but Harry privately vowed to do better next time.  He gave Eggsy another kiss and rose.  He walked to the bathroom on legs that felt like jelly and discarded the condom on the way. 

Harry cleaned himself up at the sink, catching a look at himself in the mirror as he did so.  He looked thoroughly debauched- his lips were red and swollen, his hair was a mess, and his clothes hardly bore thinking about. Harry preferred not to sleep naked, so he resigned himself to sleeping at least half-dressed again.  He took off his jacket and shirt and hung them on the doorknob.  He could worry about wrinkles later.  

They would have something of a walk of shame in the morning, Harry supposed- but it was difficult to be ashamed tonight. 

He wet a washcloth and headed back to the bed, cleaning Eggsy up a bit as well.  The pillow was a lost cause, and Harry tossed it to the floor accordingly.  Eggsy was so soft and pliant, and he cuddled up against Harry's chest the moment Harry turned out the light and returned to lay down beside him. 

Harry kissed his hair.  He had never been so happy to simply hold another person in his life.

He wasn't surprised when he fell asleep that way. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry didn’t know how long he stood there, holding that medal he had held once before. He didn’t know how long it had been before Merlin finally went looking for him. Minutes, perhaps? Or maybe hours?_
> 
> _He wouldn’t have been surprised if it had actually been days. His feet might as well have turned to stone._

Harry didn't have much experience waking up with someone in his arms. 

He had never made a habit of taking people home, and he hadn't liked anyone well enough to spend the night with them in a long time.  And because he was so unaccustomed to that closeness, so always on alert, he often woke suddenly or even lashed out, as he had warned Eggsy he might the first time they shared a bed together.  Unless the person on the other side of the bed was also a spy (and sometimes even then) this was rather a rude awakening- and, civilian or otherwise, anyone who spent a night with Harry rarely stayed for all of it.   

And yet this wasn't the first time Harry had woken up with _Eggsy_ in his arms.  They hadn't shared a bed so often that Harry could take it for granted, or so often that Harry could grow bored of it (Harry didn't think there was enough time or enough beds- rented or otherwise- in this world for him to ever grow bored of waking up with Eggsy beside him).  But it was true that thanks to Eggsy this thing Harry had once believed would be forever unfamiliar to him- the presence of another body, a _beloved_ body, fitted tightly to his own- had already become not so unfamiliar after all. 

And yet this was still the first time Harry had been permitted to touch Eggsy- _really_ touch him- and to be touched in return.  And it was the first time he awoke slowly, lazily, to find Eggsy draped over him and pressing warm, soft kisses to his chest. 

“Hello,” Eggsy murmured when he saw Harry awake.  He smiled.

Harry's reply was little more than a grunt.  He had slept well whenever he slept with Eggsy from the beginning, but a part of his brain had still classified their time at Walker's club as a mission and kept him a little on his toes (for the best, overall, since technically it had been).  This morning, though, was another beast entirely.   

Eggsy looked delighted.  "All those early calls had me thinking you was a morning person," he said, laughing. 

"I'm not," Harry admitted.  "Not by nature, anyway."  He mustered enough energy to take Eggsy's face between his hands and drag him up for a kiss.  Eggsy was still grinning, and the curve of his smile under Harry's lips was sublime.  Suddenly Harry was afraid that this was another dream- one where this time the universe dangled Eggsy in his way and Harry took him, but was only permitted to keep him for a moment before he was snatched away again.    

If Harry didn’t believe in fate (which he didn’t), he believed in prophecies and premonitions even less.  But… he was in too dangerous a line of work not to get bad feelings from time to time, and he had been in it too long not to have learned to trust them.

When they parted Eggsy laughed again- a sweet sound that fanned out across Harry's face.  Harry had a bad feeling now.  He kissed Eggsy again, and again, until it faded away. 

This was no dream. 

But unfortunately, the possibility that something might take Eggsy from him was very real.  Harry had put off addressing it for far too long already.  "Eggsy," he began, "I hate to undermine the morning glow, but-"

Eggsy pulled a face.  "Do I need to brush my teeth?"

"Doubtless we both do," Harry said.  He gave Eggsy another kiss; he couldn't help it.  "But I can hardly find it in me to care."

Eggsy's laughter was as soft as his lips. 

"I mean that we need to talk.  About…”  Harry considered his phrasing: “About your phone."

He knew that, in being so vague, he was leaving himself open for more evasions and half-answers.  Could he accept them after everything that had happened?  Harry wasn't sure, and he prepared- as last- to push as Eggsy frowned and let his head drop, resting his chin on Harry's chest.  "It was a van," he admitted at last.  "They robbed a van moving a bunch of electronics.”

"And your stepfather plans to sell off the contents, I assume."

Eggsy nodded.  "You know I didn’t wanna be there in the first place.  But they tricked me, said the baby was there and I needed to pick her up.  I actually- I actually almost called you.  Rotti- he’s one of Dean’s mates- caught me and fucking knocked the phone outta my hands and it broke.  I couldn’t grab it before we had to get outta there.”

"And you... changed your number because- because of the police, then?"

"I guess so," Eggsy said.  Then, “Actually, no, not really.  I don’t know if anything’s gonna come of that.”

Harry agreed, largely because he intended to have the tech branch put out a few feelers and make sure anything the police might have on Eggsy was conveniently lost.  “Why then?”

“Well."  Eggsy cleared his throat.  "You know I was doing- uh- what I was doing because my family needed the money, right?  With Dean around, we- well, maybe we won’t anymore.”

Harry considered that.  He considered, too, whether Eggsy would just be going from the frying pan to the proverbial fire.  His stepfather might be the more effectual breadwinner, but this was unlikely to be the last time he roped Eggsy into something both dangerous and illegal- and he had been caught before or he wouldn’t have been jailed to begin with.

But then there was the timing.  It could hardly be coincidence only, that Eggsy had jumped so quickly into the idea of quitting right after he and Harry had become intimate.  Even if the loss of Eggsy’s phone had never happened, even if Harry had not taken Eggsy on this mission with him, matters would certainly have come to a head the next time they saw each other after the club- Eggsy must have known as much.

It was difficult to believe that his choice to quit had nothing to do with it.

"Not everybody was gonna like me just up and quitting.  You know- customers, club owners like Walker, some dealers and suppliers I've worked with.  Thought I could cut down on that." 

"Has it worked?" Harry asked.

Eggsy nodded.  "Has so far."

"If that changes, or if you ever need anything at all-" Harry held Eggsy's eyes seriously- "you must know by now that you can always call on me."

Eggsy kissed Harry's chest again lightly, his smile small and sweet.  "Yeah."  He hesitated then, all soft eyes and uncertainty.  "Harry…"  There was something he wanted to ask of Harry, but he clearly didn't know how to put it into words.  

Harry lifted a hand and cradled his cheek.  "Yes?"

Eggsy lifted his own hand and laid it over Harry's, then turned his head and kissed Harry's palm.  "It's nothing," he said.  "Just..."  He gripped Harry's hand tight and sort of inhaled against it.  "I'll- I'll be seeing you around, right?"

For a second, Harry could only stare- but then he thought perhaps he understood.  Despite what Eggsy said the night before, about wanting to be with Harry and about being sure that Harry wanted it too, the fact remained that there had been a lot of tension between them for a long time.  Perhaps a part of Eggsy- small but insistent nevertheless- had wondered if everything else between them would survive after that tension had been relieved.  And with such a worry in his mind, Harry's offer of help might have sounded like something meant to put distance between them, rather than bring them closer together.  “Of course,” Harry promised, thinking not only of all the things he wanted to do to Eggsy, but also of all the wonders he wanted to show him.  His thumb brushed over Eggsy’s mouth, that mouth that had so occupied his mind for so long, and he reeled Eggsy in for another kiss.  “Of course.”

Eggsy beamed as he returned it.  "Anyway," he said between kisses.  "You did promise to teach me how to make a proper martini.  I ain't forgotten that.”

"No indeed," Harry replied, nuzzling him.  He had let that slip his mind for most of their time above the club, but he was much looking forward to showing Eggsy how it was done. 

Before they could make any plans to that end, Harry's glasses chirruped- most likely receiving a message from Merlin.  It took Harry a moment to remember where they were- in his jacket pocket, hung up on the bathroom door.   

Eggsy's expression had grown serious again, but his eyes still glinted with humor.  "You gonna get that?" he asked. 

Harry made a gesture of helplessness, indicating the jacket.  "I will need _that_."

Teasing smile right back where it belonged, Eggsy gave Harry a quick kiss and rolled off of him.  He crossed to the bathroom- naked, and without the smallest sign of embarrassment, flashing Harry a smirk over his shoulder on the way.  It was like he _wanted_ Harry to look, so Harry did exactly that.  His eyes skimmed over the swell of Eggsy's arse.  His gut burned at the memory of what he had done to Eggsy only the night before, and at the thought of Eggsy returning the favor in the not-so-distant future.  

Eggsy slid back into bed with the glasses in hand.  He straddled Harry's hips smoothly, pushing the glasses up the bridge of Harry's nose at the same time.  Harry smiled as he lifted a hand to turn them on.   

Merlin usually got audio before visual, and he was talking moment he knew Harry could hear him.  "Galahad, I know you wanted some time off, but do you suppose- oh.  Goodness."  Undoubtedly Merlin was getting a look at Eggsy’s cheeky grin right then.  The sheets, and Eggsy’s body, covered anything indecent (not that Merlin hadn’t seen everything Harry had to offer already)- but it must have been very clear what happened the night before.  Merlin sounded unusually stiff as he said, "I really would like you to come in as soon as possible."  

“Why?” Harry asked, frowning. 

“Percival is already tracking down a lead from McAvoy, and Lancelot is gone.  I’d like you to take a look at the woman we found last night.  She’s been a harder nut to crack than McAvoy, which makes us think she might be management.”

Harry couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t curious- but only yesterday he would have been much more than that.  He would have been desperate to figure out who this woman was and what she had to say.  But now he wanted to enjoy his morning with Eggsy, and he was wrong-footed by how quickly things were suddenly moving after Kingsman had dragged its feet for so long.  “Lancelot’s gone where?” he asked.   

Merlin sounded annoyed.  "He left early this morning.  He got some information about a group of mercenaries I gather he’s had his eye on.  It seems they were working with biological weapons and bought some supplies from the ring.  It’s a personal project of his and I know only a little.”  Merlin’s tone turned dismissive.  “He's headed for Argentina, I believe.  I'm asking for _you_.”

Harry knew what Merlin was really saying: do not have morning sex.  “Are you sure it can’t wait?” he asked anyway.  He wasn't above wheedling when the situation called for it. 

“Yes.” 

Harry sighed.  “Understood,” he said.  He turned the glasses off again and set them on the bedside table.  “I have to go, I’m afraid.”

Eggsy kissed him again, soft and oh-so-sweet.  He trailed light fingers across Harry’s jaw and throat.  “Immediately?” he asked. 

“Unfortunately,” Harry replied.  He wrapped a leg around Eggsy and used it to flip them over.  He was kissing Eggsy’s neck before his head hit the pillow.  “Yes.”

He pulled back in time to see Eggsy's lips draw into a pout. 

Harry kissed him there, firmly, and then rolled off him while he still could.  He climbed off the bed and went in search of his shirt and shoes.  

Eggsy turned over, lying on his stomach with his head by the foot of the bed and his chin propped up on his folded arms.  He watched Harry with interest. 

"You can collect your things from the shop- including everything you bought on your little spree- whenever you like," Harry said while still hunting down all of his clothes.  "And feel free to stay here however long you want- for days _,_ even."  Harry liked the idea of Eggsy staying here, in luxury, instead of returning to a place where Harry couldn't look after him.  "And if you need anything- a change of clothes, a ride home, something to eat… just ask.”  He handed Eggsy a card with the contact numbers of a few of Kingsman's people. 

Eggsy smiled, wiggling a little against the bedclothes.  "I could get used to this," he said. 

Harry stood there- with only one shoe on and his shirt in his hand- and felt uncomfortable.  Like there was suddenly something sordid about this even though it hadn’t seemed that way before.  He supposed it was the circumstances- the hotel, him getting dressed and running off like this- that made the amenities he was offering abruptly feel like compensation. 

Harry tracked down his other shoe so he could return to the bed in more than a series of undignified hops.  He pressed a kiss to the top of Eggsy's head.  He would make this up to him later.

But no- that didn’t feel quite right either.  Harry had done everything he could to make certain that Eggsy would only be here if he wanted to be.  He knew Eggsy had been trying to make that clear too.  The problem was primarily with Harry.  With his own lingering doubts that someone like Eggsy could possibly want to be with _him_.  Harry ran a light hand over Eggsy's flank.  "I'd like to see you again soon."

Eggsy hummed happily.  "Yeah," he said, like it was obvious.    

Harry supposed only time would make this easier- time he had every intention of taking.  "I'll need that new number of yours," Harry said.  He could probably get it by other means, but he would rather Eggsy gave it to him. 

"Oh!"  Eggsy sat up immediately, getting up on his knees at the foot of the bed.  He found Harry’s jacket still lying across the covers and fished around in the pocket until he produced Harry's phone.  "Here," he said, typing in the new number.  "Remember, you gotta text me or something or I won't get yours back.”

"I will as soon as I can," Harry assured him as he rose.  "But... I may have to go into the field suddenly."

Eggsy nodded, palms flattening out on Harry's chest. 

"If I do it will probably only be for a few days.  That's not too long, is it?"

Eggsy smiled as he took Harry's shirt from him, helping him slip his arms into the sleeves.  "No," he said as he buttoned it up.  "It's not long at all."

*   *   *

Harry’s driver didn’t remark on his clothes, the hotel, or any of it.  Harry wasn’t exactly surprised by that- the drivers were hired, among other things, for their discretion. 

He decided to go back home before returning to the shop.  He stopped by his office upstairs to pick up a few things he might need for the next phase of their investigation.  It was there that the morning light first reflected off the ring on Harry’s finger, and he stopped. 

Merlin would be expecting to get it back, Harry knew.  Without thinking too much about it, Harry slipped it off his finger and stowed it away in a drawer.  It was a useful little thing, able to produce a laser that could disrupt most technological systems- and anyway, he and Eggsy might need those rings again one day, and not just because Merlin had done everything he could to keep their covers as a newly married couple intact. 

Harry didn’t think much about that either, though; it was an idle consideration only.

He stripped off his tuxedo, showered, and then changed into a clean suit before heading in to work. 

Harry rather expected to find Kingsman HQ in chaos when he arrived. Over the glasses, Merlin had made it sound as though he had lost a multitude of resources to Percival and Lancelot’s respective missions, but in fact the opposite seemed to be true.  Everything was toddling along more or less as normal.  Harry was annoyed to discover that he had been called away from Eggsy on this ‘urgent’ matter that wasn’t so urgent after all- but he was also a little relieved that he wouldn’t be thrown into work straightaway.  He could text Eggsy, check that Eggsy’s things had indeed gone undisturbed overnight, and find someone in the tech branch to help him ensure that Eggsy never got into trouble for his stepfather’s misdeeds. 

Accordingly, Harry messaged Merlin.  “I have a few things to take care of before I can give this my full attention.”

“Yes, all right,” Merlin said, more dismissively than Harry had anticipated.  Even when he realized that there was nothing critical going on at HQ, he had still rather assumed that Merlin _felt_ it was critical.  When Merlin got a bee in his bonnet about something, there was usually no putting him off. 

Before, while Harry was with Eggsy, Merlin had wanted him here right away.  Now that he was, Merlin couldn’t seem to care less.  That made Harry suspicious.  “What about this woman?” he asked.  “Do you know who we’re dealing with?”

“Beyond her possible importance, not particularly.  Percival’s lead took him to Egypt, where we believe one of their warehouses is located.  We think she might be able to supply us with their primary base of operations- let us take care of this whole business once and for all- but so far she hasn’t said a thing.”  

“And you think that can wait, do you?”

“Letting her stew for a bit shouldn’t hurt.  At any rate, Kay has offered to take point on this.”

“Kay?” Harry repeated, really beginning to be confused.

“That’s right.  He’s been involved for as long as you have, if you’ll recall.  And he’s very good at interrogations.”

“Then what in the world do need me for?”

“Support,” Merlin replied sharply.  “Take care of your business, but do not leave.”

Harry sighed.  Merlin was certainly in a foul mood about something.  Harry thought he had better figure out what it was before Merlin took someone’s head off- but he would handle Eggsy first and worry about that later.  For now discretion was the better part of valor.  “Understood,” he said. 

He texted Eggsy that he had arrived at work, and decided not to mention how little there was for him to do after all.  It would only disappoint him, and anyway Harry knew things could change at any moment.  Then he contacted someone in the tech branch and told them what he knew about the theft and Eggsy’s stepfather, and they promised to keep an eye out for any police chatter. No one was surprised by the request- Harry already had someone watching Walker, making sure he stayed happy and didn’t go after the young man Harry had spent most of his time at the club with.  This must have seemed a relatively natural offshoot of that. 

After that, he headed back to the shop.     

One of the tailors had moved Eggsy’s clothes and left them neatly folded in one of the supply rooms.  The things that Eggsy had purchased the day before were arrayed in a circle around them. 

Harry let his fingers alight on the pile of clothes, tidying it even though it had been perfectly tidy to begin with.  He had to resist the urge to smell Eggsy’s jacket or something equally unfortunate.  It had been only a few hours since he left Eggsy’s side, and already he was missing him.

Foolish. 

There was a flash of ribbon as something slipped out of the pile.  Harry frowned and bent to retrieve it.  It was a necklace- no, it was a medal of some kind.  Harry was just thinking that he wouldn’t examine it too carefully, that he wouldn’t let years of hard won paranoia turn him into the kind of man who went through his boyfriend’s things, when he realized that he didn’t have to speculate because he recognized the medal. 

And then he wasn’t thinking anything at all.  

Harry didn’t know how long he stood there, holding that medal he had held once before.  He didn’t know how long it had been before Merlin finally went looking for him.  Minutes, perhaps?  Or maybe hours?

He wouldn’t have been surprised if it had actually been days.  His feet might as well have turned to stone.

However long it had been, Merlin had gone looking for him at last.  When he found Harry in the supply room he simply stood there, silent in the doorway, for a few moments.  And when he spoke all he said was, “Ah.”   

And then suddenly- or perhaps not so suddenly, perhaps it was only Harry’s distorted perceptions that made it seem so- he was at Harry’s side. 

He produced a flask from somewhere (Harry didn’t know where- but then, he rarely did with Merlin) and handed it to Harry, who drank deeply.  Normally he would have sipped it.  Normally Merlin would have insisted.  But this time Harry took a gulp that burned down his throat and then handed the flask back, and Merlin had a drink of his own.

“You know, don’t you?” Harry said.  “About this.”  He waved the medal still in his hand.

Merlin took it, frowning.  “Not about this specifically,” he said.  “But about Eggsy?  Yes.”  He had some papers under his arm, and he handed them to Harry.

A file.  Harry held it in his hands.  A file, at long last, about Eggsy. Probably it contained further, minor skeletons of the sort Harry had originally hoped to avoid having put to him in black and white.  The way Eggsy had left his gymnastics career and then the marines, which Harry would undoubtedly have judged him harshly for without the benefit of knowing him first.  His criminal record.  Perhaps other things.  The worst that Harry could imagine would, he was sure, pale in comparison to the thing that had been staring him in the face all this while.

His _name_.  Eggsy Unwin.    

Harry ran his fingers over the letters stamped across front the page.  That was where he had heard the name Eggsy before- from a child whose father he had gotten killed years ago. 

Harry reached out, not sure what he was reaching for until Merlin pressed the flask back into his hand.  That must have been it. 

Harry drank, almost choking.  “I suppose the nickname should have given it away.”  How many young men in this world could possibly call themselves Eggsy?        

“Perhaps.”  Merlin was probably trying to be kind.

“I gave that child a medal and I walked away and I haven’t thought of him or his mother since.”  That wasn’t strictly true, of course- there must have been cold, sleepless nights when Lee Unwin’s family had crossed Harry’s mind, but only ever as a single failure among many.  Never as a duty he had failed to perform. 

“It wasn’t your job to watch over that family,” Merlin said. 

“I suppose we should be grateful for that.  I would undoubtedly have done abysmally.”  Harry thought about leaving Eggsy in that hotel room- was it only this morning?- and about how happy he had been, imagining their future together. 

His thumb brushed over the picture in Merlin’s file.  It was from Eggsy’s time with the Marines.  He had been younger then, with a sharp face and angry eyes.  Not the boy Harry knew and loved- except that he was, wasn’t he?  The boy Harry loved _was_ this angry young man who had left home to do work he could believe in, and then returned to look after his family because no one else would.      

Harry discovered that the supply closet wall was very close, that he was slumped against it. 

Merlin wasn’t one to touch casually- but he was hovering beside Harry, clearly trying to be supportive.  “Does it really matter?” he asked. 

“You know it does, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Questions like why exactly Merlin was here, how long he had known and when and why he had figured it out- those would come later.  Harry felt too numb to think much beyond this: he understood why Merlin had asked if it mattered, because he himself didn’t completely know why it did, or what about the situation made him so sick.  

Then again, perhaps he did.  Perhaps it was because like anyone who loved a person who had been through hell, Harry had wished many times that he could have been there for Eggsy when he had so desperately needed someone.  Perhaps it was because he now realized he could have.  

Or perhaps it was another reason.  Perhaps his guilt over the boy he had handed that medal to, and over that boy’s father, was now coloring his relationship Eggsy in ways that might just make an already complicated relationship impossible. 

Perhaps it was simply the nebulous sense of wrongness Harry had in his gut whenever he thought about having spent the previous night with Lee Unwin’s son. 

Harry simply didn’t know, and until he knew he couldn’t speak of it to Eggsy- not without saying things he would certainly regret.  And could he be alone with Eggsy- could he so much as look at him- without telling him what he now knew?  Of course not.

“I need to go,” Harry said at last. 

“Yes, of course,” Merlin said.  “You go home.  I’ll cover for-”

“No,” Harry said.  “I mean into the field.  I need to _do_ something. Talk to Kay, find me these people’s base of operations.  Please.”  

Harry could tell that Merlin didn’t like it, but he didn’t protest either.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

*   *   *

“I’ve been thinking,” Harry said to Merlin about three days later.  He was on his stomach, behind a sniper rifle, looking at the windows of a magnificent west country estate in the pre-dawn dark.  He was under orders to watch and wait- again, perpetually- and he had been able to do little but think.

It had been the final insult- or perhaps it was to be one of many, Harry didn’t trust his own instincts for when something was over anymore- that the ring’s base of operations had turned out to be in England, in their proverbial backyard, and so remarkably similar to Kingsman’s own HQ.  That had gotten Arthur riled up at long last, and when he heard how desperate Harry was for something to occupy him he had let him go.

Of course, the west country felt too close by half when Harry could have been taking Percival’s place in Cairo or even Lancelot’s in Argentina- but Harry knew that not even the moon would have felt far enough when he wasn’t running from Eggsy, not really.

He was running from himself. 

“I’ve been thinking that you let me go very easily, after claiming to need me so much over the glasses.”

Merlin grunted.  “Well.  I may have overstated things slightly.”

“Because of Eggsy.”  Harry was sure about this; nothing else explained it. 

“Yes,” Merlin admitted. 

“How long have you known who he was?”

“Since you admitted to having a contact in Walker’s club,” Merlin replied.  “I looked at some camera footage and recognized him as the same young man you had been showing off for at the McDonald’s that night.  So I did some digging.”

“You knew who he was when I asked to take him with me to the party.”

“Of course I did.”

Of course Merlin did.  Harry supposed he should have known.  Merlin had given a token protest because it wasn’t in his nature to do otherwise- but in the end that was all the protest had been.  Token.  Harry had been too distracted to notice that, but he should have suspected.  Should have known.

“You two worked well together,” Merlin said.  “I wasn’t expecting that, you know.  You’ve never played well with others.”   

“I suppose not.”  Harry didn’t completely know where Merlin was going with this when it hardly mattered now, but he did know that from Merlin _you worked well together_ meant so much more than just the _work_. 

“At any rate, knowing that he had some training eased my mind.”

“You mean the marines.”

“Indeed.”  Merlin sounded approving.  “So you did know a little bit about him after all.”

Harry growled.  “I knew-” he cut himself off.  He knew too little.  Merlin might have been teasing him on a subject he had no desire to be teased about, but he wasn’t wrong.  Harry had been a fool.  He had realized, after the loss of Eggsy’s number, that in his desire to get to know Eggsy organically he had allowed too much to go by the wayside, but he hadn’t done anything about it either. 

“I do understand,” Merlin said, “why you didn’t want me looking into him.”

“Do you?” Harry asked.  Harry didn’t completely understand it himself.  He never had- and Merlin hated mysteries.  He hated to not _know_.  How could he understand that Harry had wanted something else?  Some way to spend his time with a person who hadn’t been broken into his component parts in one of Merlin’s folders?  

Harry had wanted something else and he’d gotten it- and he’d fallen in love and missed something.  Missed _this_. 

He had known, known from their rather inauspicious beginning, that Eggsy had had to do less than wonderful things to survive.  It was easy not to judge him for it- or at least it had been before he knew Eggsy was Lee’s son.  It had been before he knew that Eggsy had done some of those things with the medal Harry had given him as a child around his neck.   

Harry thought that might well be the worst part.  It was one thing to be sorry for Eggsy’s past when he had nothing to do with it.  But now he did.  When that family had fallen on hard times, when a man who was possibly abusive and certainly criminal had come into their lives, when Eggsy had found himself on a street corner to help his pregnant mother pay the rent… it was either Harry’s fault for not going against Michelle’s wishes and helping them anyway, or it was Eggsy’s fault for not calling on him when he so clearly needed to.  It could be both, but it could never be neither. 

And either way Eggsy’s past- and to some extent his present- was not just his past anymore, not just something for Harry to accept as a painful but intrinsic part of the boy he loved.  It was the direct result of Harry’s inattention. 

“I do,” Merlin insisted.  “But to be honest, Harry- in the beginning I thought _you_ knew.  Who spends that much time with someone never knowing their last name?”

And that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it?  The last name.  If Harry had ever heard it, it would certainly have brought him up short, and then he would have remembered again that passing familiarity, that distant memory which had niggled at him when he first learned what Gary called himself.  And he would have remembered the small boy who he had handed a medal to all those years ago.

“When did you doubt it?” Harry asked.

“When I saw how close you had gotten to him.  Before I knew he was Lee’s son I thought that you two were dating- but then I wasn’t sure what was between you until the hotel, until-”

“Until you saw us in bed together.” 

Merlin’s grunt was the same one he gave whenever he saw more of Harry’s body than he would have liked, and the familiarity was so discordant when Harry felt- when he felt-

So foreign in his own skin, as if he had been altered on a fundamental level.  He could still remember how Eggsy felt underneath him, all warm and pliant.  And now he could also remember how he had looked as a child, watching Harry with such solemn understanding.  Harry thought he was going to be ill. 

“When I started to worry that perhaps you had no idea what- who- you were dealing with, I thought it best to pull you in.”

“How were you going to put it to me?”

“I hadn’t decided.  I suppose I was going to find ways to keep you busy until I was ready.”

Harry still felt sick, but he laughed- and almost meant it- at the thought.  “What a terror I would have been while I was waiting.”    

He would have been so confused, so frustrated, as Merlin shuttled him from task to task, keeping him from Eggsy. 

Keeping him from the boy he loved- and loved still, even now that he shouldn’t. 

“I don’t think it’s _wrong_ , Harry,” Merlin said, as if he could read Harry’s thoughts.  “And I didn’t come to the conclusion that you must have been in the dark because you would _never_ become involved with Lee’s son.  It was only that what happened seemed… easier than you would have let it be if you’d known.”

If Harry had known… if he had met Eggsy knowing he was Lee’s son… He might (almost certainly _would_ ) have come to terms with all of this by now.  At the moment, though, Harry had no idea what coming to terms with all this would even look like.

He really thought he was going to be ill.  Only-

Only there wasn’t time for that, because he had work to do. 

“I’m going in there,” Harry said.  He set his rifle down and started to check all of his weapons.  They appeared to be in good order.

“The hell you are,” Merlin replied.  “Arthur agreed that you would go in only if you saw signs of immediate danger to civilians, and only with backup on the way.”  

“Change of plans,” Harry said.

He went in.

*   *   *

Later- on his way back to HQ- Harry remembered the last time he had been seriously injured in the field, remembered what he had thought at the time.  _Superior numbers always won out in the end._   Maybe that wasn’t the case after all; Harry had dispatched the senior members of the ring quite handily, and their underlings had easily surrendered that field thereafter. 

In the part of his mind that could still be dispassionate, Harry didn’t blame them.  He had rather redefined the term ‘excessive use of force’.  Those young- everyone seemed so young to Harry, suddenly- men and women must have been terrified. 

The rest of Harry wasn’t feeling dispassionate at all.  He felt like his skin was sparking, electric- and he was no easier in himself or the situation with Eggsy than he had been when he barged into that house, guns blazing.

It had been foolish to think that violence would solve his problems.  Childish.   

Harry took the scenic route back to HQ just to put off talking to Merlin, who would undoubtedly be spitting mad- an effort which appeared to have been in vain when he messaged Harry. 

“Look,” Harry said in an attempt to preempt him.  “I’m sorry for how I behaved.  I know-”

“We can talk about what you know,” Merlin said, “and about your carelessness at some other time.  For now, we need you back.  For a toast.”

Harry went still.  He thought, in that moment, that he was even more foolish than he had supposed- patting himself on the back for how easy it had been to take down the ring in the end.  Obviously that hadn’t been their main headquarters at all- or, at least, it hadn’t been where their more dangerous employees had been quartered- and now… “Percival-”

“It’s not for Percival,” Merlin said.  “As far as I know, he’s fine.”

And Harry knew Merlin.  He would have checked in with every agent in the field twice over by now, with one of them dead. 

“It’s Lancelot.”   


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry swallowed. "I need... time. To figure this out.”_
> 
> _It was so strange to think of how happy they had been only a few days ago. It must have been even stranger for Eggsy, who didn’t know about any of this. Harry hadn’t realized until the words came out of his mouth that_ I need time _rarely meant anything good._ I need time _rarely meant they would stay together in the end._
> 
> _Suddenly he wanted to take it back. Wanted to spit out the words right now, every last one, and if Arnold walked in the middle so be it. Perhaps all he had felt and thought would make no sense to Eggsy, perhaps it would even hurt him, but at least Harry would have done something._
> 
> _But before Harry could, Eggsy said, “I think maybe I need time too.”_

“Your boy called you,” Merlin told Harry. 

This was after the toast, after Merlin had gone over what little he knew about Lancelot’s final mission again with Harry and with Arthur, after he had made it as clear as he possibly could without words that he did not believe Harry was capable- either physically or emotionally- of taking on the investigation of Lancelot’s death.  Arthur had put Harry on the case anyway, and Merlin had followed him out with this piece of news.  Perhaps he hadn’t wanted Arthur to know, or perhaps he had simply been saving it for last.

Or perhaps it was some kind of parting shot.  Adding insult to injury. 

Ever since the last time they lost an agent in the field, ever since Lee died and didn’t get one because Arthur would never have accepted that young man as one of them, the toast had made Harry uncomfortable.  And Lancelot- well, Lancelot had never been a particular friend of Harry’s, but he had been bright and vibrant and Harry hadn’t expected him to just die.  Harry might have thought about the trials a few times over the last few months, but he hadn’t expected _anyone_ to die. 

And now a small and stupid part of him insisted that it might be his fault.  That if he hadn’t speculated, this might not have happened.  Lancelot might not be gone. 

It was ridiculous, Harry knew- to believe that his idle speculation had any effect whatsoever on such things- but Harry simply didn’t know what to believe anymore.  He had so often thought that it seemed like fate was bringing him and Eggsy together, that whether he believed in destiny or not they were clearly connected in some way or it wouldn't keep happening.  That sense was even harder to ignore now that he knew who Eggsy really was, now that he knew they were more connected than he could ever have imagined.    

Merlin must have known what hearing Eggsy so much as mentioned would do to Harry now.  He must have decided- since what Harry had chosen to do at the ring’s headquarters- that he wasn’t interested in being kind anymore. 

He hadn’t said Lee’s boy, hadn’t said Eggsy, hadn’t even said Gary bloody Unwin- and unless it was to remind Harry how utterly he had fucked up, Harry didn’t know why he had said it at all.  “How?” he asked.      

Harry’s phone had multiple texts, missed calls, and voicemails waiting on it.  Harry had the excuse of the possible mission he had warned Eggsy about for why he hadn’t answered them- but Eggsy must have been getting worried by now. 

Still, just as Harry had only the one way of contacting Eggsy, Eggsy had only one way of contacting Harry.  How would _Merlin_ have gotten a message from him?

“He called the number on the medal,” Merlin said. 

At some point while Harry was away from HQ Eggsy had come to the shop and picked up his things- including the purchases he had made to get Harry’s attention.  As far as Harry knew he hadn’t returned them.  Only a few days ago, the thought of Eggsy keeping those things would have warmed Harry to his core.  Now, as always seemed to be the case when Eggsy was involved, Harry didn’t know how to feel.  He didn’t know how to feel about Eggsy finally, finally calling that number either.  “Shit,” he murmured.   

Eggsy had neglected to ask for his help so many times, in so many situations.  To have called him at last, he must be in very real trouble.

Harry felt sick.  Just when he had managed to convince himself that this whole business with Eggsy couldn’t get any worse, _this_ happened.  Eggsy finally used the number on the medal, finally called on him- and it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t have had to if Harry- the Harry who was supposed to be his boyfriend now (assuming that was what Harry was supposed to be, he hadn’t bothered asking, he had thought there would be more time to put a name on things)- had just picked up his damn phone. 

“He was arrested last night,” Merlin said.  “You have to go.  You have to buck up and tell him everything.”

And he was right, of course.  He usually was.  Harry knew that was the best thing to do; he also knew that he wasn’t going to do it.  “I’ll sort it out,” he told Merlin instead (a lie, he wasn’t sure this _could_ be sorted out).

Eggsy’s call could not go answered- not for Lee’s sake and certainly not for his own- but how to answer it was another question.  It shouldn’t be so difficult, Harry knew that.  It should be easy, to go to Eggsy now.  To get him out of this trouble he was in, and tell him that he had known his father- tell him that this had blindsided him, that he’d been ridiculous.  That he knew it was awkward, knew it changed things- perhaps irrevocably- but that if they were willing to work at it there should be no reason they couldn’t get through this together.     

And it would be easy, except for Harry and how he was feeling.  How guilty he still was, over Lee and his death and what it had meant for Eggsy through the years.  Over how little thought he had given Eggsy in that time when his _every_ thought should have been of him, of his safety, his happiness.  Over his memories of a small child with solemn eyes who had trusted him. 

Harry was the first to admit that he wasn't always good at handling strong emotions.  Indeed, he had handled so many things poorly where Eggsy was concerned already- and until (unless) he had a handle on this he would only make things worse, not better.  It wasn’t Eggsy’s job to deal with this guilt, these unanswered (and perhaps unanswerable) questions.  Harry couldn’t put all this on him.  And he couldn’t think of a way to explain everything without doing so.  His head was a minefield right now, and he owed it to Eggsy not to throw him into it. 

But he couldn’t leave Eggsy in the lurch either.  So- Eggsy had asked for Kingsman’s help, at long last.  It would be Kingsman’s help that he received.     

Harry called in a favor of his own.  

Kingsman had its field agents, of course- but it also had handlers and tech operatives and doctors by the score.  Of all the positions in Kingsman, however, there were only three into which current Kingsman employees could be promoted: Arthur, Merlin, and Pellinore.  All three were leadership positions, inherently less dangerous, and the last in particular was meant to be a reward for years of loyal service.

Pellinore coordinated the actual tailoring branch of Kingsman, and while it was perhaps not a very exciting job it was a genuinely important one.  When Harry was recruited, Pellinore had been Caradoc.  Now he was eighty years old, living in Kent with his wife, and something of an institution. 

The fact that he also owed Harry his life- from a mission gone awry very early in Harry’s career as Galahad- was something neither of them took lightly.     

Harry returned home to make the call in private.

“Galahad,” Pellinore said warmly when he picked up the phone.  “Is this a social call?”

“It’s a ‘finally calling in that favor’ call.”

Pellinore grew very serious very fast.  “What is it, my boy?” he asked. 

That there was someone in this world who still called him ‘my boy’ rarely failed to put things into perspective for Harry.  ”There’s a… young man.  I once promised him my help if he ever needed it, and he’s been arrested.”

“Surely those are strings you can pull on your own.”

“Getting him released isn’t the question,” Harry said.  It was quite literally the least he could do, and Harry would never have stopped there- not with Lee's son.  "He needs… steady work.”

“He’s currently unemployed, I take it?”

Harry hesitated.  He didn’t entirely know.  According to the file Merlin had at long last handed to him, Eggsy had never held a steady job- not one on paper, anyway.  The stealing and the drug dealing had been noted down only where he had gotten caught.  His work as a rent boy was mainly under the radar, but as far as Harry knew it was still what he did for a living.  Or, at least, it had been until a few days ago.

Harry didn’t know for sure that Eggsy had quit or was going to, nor did he know for sure that- if Eggsy _was_ going to quit- it was because of their relationship.  He didn't know... too many things.

“He’s a rent boy,” Harry finally said. 

Pellinore made a thoughtful noise.  “The world’s oldest profession is many things, but strictly _un_ steady.  And you know as well as I do that if you let your… personal feelings on the subject govern your judgment then you will be acting not for his benefit but your own.”

“I know,” Harry said.  That was one thing he did know.    

He knew that if he had never met Eggsy before finally getting his call, he would have tried to find work for him.  It was the first thing he would have done.  This was Lee’s son and after seeing the state he was in Harry would never have left him to his own devices.  Not again. 

Either that would have been the wrong choice, or the wrong choice had actually been to follow Eggsy’s lead all this while and not push more help on him.  Harry couldn’t make up his mind which it was, and that- more than anything- was why he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Eggsy again yet. 

Pellinore was right; this was him trying assuage his own guilt, and it wasn’t going to help Eggsy.  But coming to him so guilt-ridden and unsure wouldn’t help him either. 

“If you offer him work and he refuses, let it go,” Harry said.  “You and I will still be square.” 

Pellinore grunted.  “I assume he knows nothing about tailoring.”  

“If he takes the job he’ll work hard.  I know it.”

“I believe you,” Pellinore said, something Harry couldn’t quite read in his voice.  “If you get him released, I’ll be there.  You have my word.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.  You aren’t quite out of the woods.”

“How do you know I’m in the woods?” Harry asked, half amused and half terrified.

“I can hear it in your voice, boy.”

And that was exactly what Harry had worried would be the case.  In truth, his voice hardly sounded like his own as he said, “The less you know about all this the better.”

“I was about to say exactly that,” Pellinore replied, and he hung up. 

Harry did the same, feeling better and much, much worse at the same time.  It occurred to him that he could probably make a study of all the impossible things Eggsy was capable of making him feel.

He started the calls to get Eggsy released.  The work- a lot of waiting, some shouting, a little name dropping, and much less threatening than Harry would have liked- made the time pass quickly enough.   

It didn’t take Harry long to finish the job, but it was long enough for Pellinore to be waiting outside the police station when Eggsy walked out the door.

Harry knew because he tapped into the security camera pointed in their direction, and he watched. 

Eggsy looked tired; the circles under his eyes spoke to more than a few hours under close scrutiny by the police.  Harry's gut clenched at the sight of him.  _I should be there_ , he kept thinking.  He should.  But he wasn't.  All he could do was watch, and hope.   

There was no audio, so Harry couldn’t hear what they said to each other.  He had sent Pellinore some basic information about Eggsy, and though he hadn’t known Lee personally he would remember him, remember what he had done for Harry and for Kingsman.  It would be easy for him to convince Eggsy that it was in Lee’s name that he was making the offer. 

Eggsy had never talked about his father- but, judging from the way his eyes lit up, hearing that Lee had been a good man and a hero meant a great deal to him.

So Pellinore would make his offer, and Eggsy would admit right off that he knew nothing about tailoring, and Pellinore would say something along the lines of _you can learn, can’t you?_ And Eggsy would admit that he could, but most likely ask to think about it first.

As Harry watched, that was exactly how it went.  Pellinore gave Eggsy his card and took his leave.

Eggsy stood there on the steps for a few moments, frowning at the card in his hand. 

Harry closed his laptop and raked a hand over his face.  There was, he knew, a flaw in his little plan.  Eggsy was smart- too smart not to notice that the tailor who had arrived to help him worked for the same business that Harry patronized.  

Harry had never told Eggsy that he worked there, never made it clear that he had been reporting in that day as well as picking up a suit for himself and Eggsy- but that didn’t mean Eggsy wouldn’t still put two and two together.  Eggsy was no more a connoisseur of the tailoring world than Harry was of the clubs-and-drugs life Eggsy had lived, so perhaps he would think it a coincidence only.  Or maybe a bit more than a coincidence but not too much odder than the events that had brought them together thus far.  Strange, that he should now have the opportunity to work at a shop Harry often visited- but nothing beyond the realm of possibility. 

Or perhaps Eggsy would figure out that Harry did work for Kingsman, and therefore that Kingsman was more than a tailor’s shop- and therefore that his father was more than a marine Pellinore had known in passing.

Perhaps he would even work out- if not Harry's connection to all of it- at least that Harry _was_ connected.

Harry wondered if that was what he was hoping for, deep down.  For Eggsy to figure it out and confront him so he wouldn’t have to bring it up himself.  For Eggsy to already know how he felt about all this so Harry- who couldn’t seem to decide how he himself felt- wouldn’t have to try and figure out what Eggsy would think on top of it all. 

For now none of that mattered; what mattered was Eggsy's immediate future.  Harry knew how much he cared about being able to provide for his family.  He would swallow his pride and take the job, Harry was sure of it.   

It took ten minutes for Harry’s phone to ring. 

Harry stared at Eggsy’s name on the screen.  There was, of course, a reason beyond pride for Eggsy to think the proposition over before agreeing.  Harry.  Had he figured it out already- or did he simply want to share this news with Harry, or even ask his advice?

Harry didn’t know, and he didn’t answer.  

Instead, he made another call.

Harry knew only the bare bones details of why Eggsy had been arrested in the first place.  He had stolen a car belonging to a man Harry suspected was a friend of his stepfather, taken it for something of a joyride, and gotten caught.  Eggsy was out of jail, yes- but out of hot water with Dean and his friends?  Harry wasn’t so sure about that.

He also knew how Pellinore operated.  He didn’t put new recruits to work in the London business right away, it was too risky.  While plenty of the lower level tailors never learned what Kingsman really did, someone new could too easily stumble on something they shouldn’t.  No, Pellinore took new tailors- would take Eggsy- to his business in the country to learn the trade, and he would include accommodations.  If all went well, Eggsy could be out of London by the end of the day.

If all didn’t go well- or if he refused to leave without his mother and sister, which Harry knew was distinctly possible- he could still be in danger.

Harry decided that he needed a little insurance for that eventuality. 

Finding Dean’s home number was easy.  Harry knew there was a possibility that Eggsy was home already, or that Michelle Unwin- now Baker- was.  Either of them could pick up the phone instead, though Harry prayed otherwise.  He didn’t think he could stand to hear either of their voices just now- and hers could prove downright dangerous.  There was a chance that if he spoke to her, even for a moment, she would recognize him as Eggsy never had.  

Harry shook his head.  He had never really imagined meeting Eggsy’s family; he hadn’t let himself get that far ahead.  He had thought there would be time for those concerns, just as there would be time for everything else.  And now he knew for sure that when he and Michelle finally met- _if_ they finally met- it would be an utter disaster.

This was all such a God awful mess. Harry was glad to be able to take it out on Dean Baker, even in this small way. 

He was the one who picked up the phone after all.

“I won’t waste time on pleasantries, Dean Anthony Baker,” Harry said, and he didn’t.  “I am aware of your criminal activities, up to and including the robbery of an electronics van just a few nights ago.  I have sufficient evidence of that and other crimes to send you back to prison, and to keep you there for the foreseeable future.”  

For a moment, Dean was silent.  Then he asked, “What d’you want?”

"That's a complicated question," Harry replied. 

"Is locking me up gonna uncomplicate it?"

Although everything Harry had learned about him of late suggested that he wasn’t the brightest of men, Harry thought he would catch on to this quickly enough.  "If it would, I wouldn't have made this phone call," he told Dean.  "I know that you do provide for your family, if nothing else.  And, well... Legal proceedings and bureaucratic red tape being what they are, prison is hardly an optimal solution.  And there’s someone I would rather not see caught up in your fall from grace- which I assure you would be spectacular.”

Sure enough, Dean put it all together with admirable quickness: “You mean Eggsy, eh?”

“I do.”

“You a ‘client’ of his or something?” 

“I was.”

There was another silence, then, “You’re the one, ain’t you?”  Dean’s voice seemed to settle, as though he was on even ground again- or at least starting to believe that he was.  “Everybody ‘round here knows there's someone.  Spending half a fortune on him, you are."

“A fortune I would rather you didn't speculate on.”

“Look,” Dean said.  “You wanna come to an understanding, yeah?  I can do that.  If you two had some kinda falling out, I can help you get back in easy.  I'll just smack some sense into him.”

“That is very much not what I had in mind, thank you,” Harry said.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this angry, with himself or anyone else.  Suddenly he didn't want this man so much as sharing the same air with Eggsy.  He hated that he had all this while. 

But he knew that wasn't an optimal solution either.  Eggsy had said before that they needed Dean's income.  Once Eggsy worked for Kingsman, that would change- but he hadn't agreed yet, and Harry preferred not to force his hand.  

"What I did have in mind," Harry said, "is that you and yours never lay a finger on Eggsy or anyone he cares for ever again in your life."

"Or I go away, eh?" Dean said.  "He was involved in most of the things I was, you know.  I could tell stories-" 

"Precisely why I am allowing you a different option.  Don't pass it up.  All I'm asking is that you and your friends leave Eggsy be; it shouldn't be _that_ difficult."

"He stole-"

"I do not fucking care what he stole," Harry said.  "At any rate, he was released by the police and if he knew anything... dangerous, he didn't speak of it.  As I said, leaving him alone shouldn't be that difficult for you.  The way I see it, you owe him much more than the other way around.  If he wants to leave, he gets to leave, no questions asked.  If he wants to take his mother and her daughter with him, you will allow it.  You will leave them be."    

Dean’s tone went from wheedling to mocking: “You in love with him, or something?”

"Desperately,” Harry said.  It burned like acid on his lips.  “And I am a very dangerous man.  If you don't do as I ask, I will make you wish we had gone with prison.  Do you believe I could do that?  If you don’t, I will pay you a visit and give a demonstration.  You won’t enjoy it.”  

“I believe you,” Dean said.

“Good,” Harry replied.  He hung up the phone.  

*   *   *

Thinking objectively, Harry was glad that Dean had been so easily cowed (which he had been; Harry had a few techs keeping an eye on the area, and it was suddenly unusually low on domestic disturbances).  Thinking objectively, Harry was as aware as he had been in the moments just before he learned of Lancelot’s death that violence would not solve this particular problem.

But for the most part Harry wasn’t able to think objectively.  He wasn’t good at doing nothing, and yet in the state he was in he could think of little that he could do that wouldn’t hurt Eggsy even more.

Harry was frustrated, and he needed an outlet for that frustration- and he wished, vaguely, that there was someone else in danger of hurting Eggsy that he could take it out on. 

But Dean _had_ been easily cowed- and, his relatively ambiguous reference to people who wouldn’t like him quitting aside, Eggsy was unlikely to have enough enemies for Harry go through them one by one.  The way Harry was feeling, he doubted _anyone_ had enough enemies.      

But the ring was still out there- what was left of them after his previous outburst, at least- and so were Lancelot’s killers. 

Harry would have to content himself with them. 

He went to see Agent Kay.  He found him in his office, poring over old files.  He looked at Harry from over the top of one, pale eyes tired.  “I heard you were put on Lancelot’s case.”

“That’s right,” Harry replied. 

“If that’s why you're here, I’m afraid I know very little about it.”

“I’m actually here about the ring,” Harry said.  “Tangentially, at least- how much do you think they had to do with what happened to him?”

“Very little, as far as Merlin and I can tell.  As he may have told you, Lancelot had been tracking some mercenaries who were experimenting with biological warfare.  Their trail had gone cold, which is why he volunteered himself to help Percival that night- but clearly the ring had their fingers in a lot of pies.  It’s entirely possible that they sold materials to just about every organization out there.”  Kay lifted a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “At any rate, they certainly sold materials to Lancelot’s mercenaries.  He used that connection to work out where they were holed up, got eyes on them, and saw that they had kidnapped this professor.  And Lancelot could be careless at times, but he wouldn’t have just walked in unless he was sure he could handle whatever he found in there.  Something must have surprised him.”

“Something worse than the ring?”

“That’s my suspicion, yes.”

“And this woman you’ve been… talking to.  How much does she know about our new ‘something’?”  If the ring was mostly neutralized after all, they had to move on to the next threat. 

“That I’ve been able to discover?  Not a damn thing.”

No wonder Kay was looking so… burned out.  “Perhaps Arthur should let me talk to her.”

Judging from the look Kay shot him, if Harry had meant it to sound teasing- which he wasn’t sure, now, that he had- he failed.  “I’ve been in this the longest apart from you,” Kay said.  “And you have been rather absentee for much of the time since we caught up with these people.  Perhaps Arthur thought you might be willing to let it go for once.”

“I’m not,” Harry said.  He didn’t like the idea of letting go.  He needed to be part of this, because as soon as he was at loose ends again he would have think about something else, about letting go of something else.  Because that was the question here, wasn’t it?  Either he found a way to work through this, or he let Eggsy go.  “I’m not at all willing to let it go.  In fact, I’d like to talk to her now.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Kay-”

“Listen, Galahad- _Harry_.  She holds all the cards, really, except for the fact that she has no idea where she is, who we are, or that her organization is... compromised.”  Interesting euphemism for _gone_.  “I don’t want to change that.”     

“You don’t think I can keep her in the dark?”

“I don’t think misdirection is your best skill, no.  That isn’t an insult- at least not entirely.  We all have our different talents and yours tend to involve going straight at a target.  Lancelot was the same way and now he’s gone.  But that isn’t what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about Granby.”

Harry hadn’t heard that name in months, and it brought him up short.  The weapons designer who he had gotten sent to prison, and who had in turn sent men to kill him.  The man who- both where the ring was concerned and where Eggsy was- had started all this.  “Granby?”

“He was concerned about you, remember?  You don’t know how involved with the ring he really was, or if he now has anything to do with the people who killed Lancelot.  He might not have told them anything, but he might have told them a great many things.  I don’t want to risk a description of you being one of those things.”

“Merlin let me go on the mission to collect McAvoy.  Why wasn’t this a worry then?”

“A packed ballroom is an entirely different matter than a one-on-one interrogation, and you know it.”

“I suppose so,” Harry admitted reluctantly.  “Let me watch through the glasses the next time you interview her, then.”

“Very well,” Kay said.  He shuffled his papers a bit.  “I was about to do that now.”

“Excellent,” Harry said. 

Kay rose, and side-by-side they headed toward the door.  Kay backed up against the wall, gesturing with a hand.  “After you.”

Before Harry could protest, Kay went still and cocked his head to one side, clearly getting some kind of message from over the glasses.  “What?” he said sharply.  “When?”

Whatever the reply was, Kay didn’t seem to like it.  Harry patched in via his own glasses- but it was too late to hear anything, and Kay didn’t explain.  He jerked his head in the direction of the hall and made his way a few floors down to the holding cells, Harry following close at his heels. 

There was a junior tech waiting for them, pale-faced and sweating.

“What happened?” Kay asked. 

“We aren't completely sure,” the tech replied.  “The cameras have been on the fritz, so until a doctor takes a look at her we won’t know exactly when... it happened.”  The tech didn’t explain what 'it' was, and shortly excused himself. 

Kay poked his head around the half-open door to the cell.  “Oh my,” he said.  He was much more casual about whatever was on the other side of that door than the tech had been, but his eyes were unusually wide- which, for Kay, was a serious reaction. 

Harry took a breath and followed him inside.  

The woman was... definitely dead.  She was still clearly identifiable because most of her body was intact, but her head was _gone_.  Kay bent at her side, frowning.  “Some variant on the cyanide capsule, do you think?" he mused aloud.  "Death before questioning?”

“It’s quite... thorough, isn’t it?” Harry said. 

Kay snorted.  He had gone rather pale after all.

Harry lifted his hand and spoke into his glasses.  “Can someone check in on our friend McAvoy?”

Kay eyed him curiously.  “McAvoy already gave Percival a great deal of information.  If he was going to do something like this to keep us from learning anything, it’s a bit late now.”

Harry shrugged, but he had a feeling Kay was right.  Sure enough, another tech soon reported that McAvoy was right where they left him, head and all. 

“It’s interesting, isn't it?” Kay said.  “In my experience it’s usually the foot soldiers who use the cyanide capsules and the leadership who hesitate in the end, rather than the other way 'round.”

“Maybe McAvoy wasn't important enough and she didn’t have a choice,” Harry said.         

“You think someone else is responsible for-” Kay gestured vaguely- "this?"

“In the age of technology we live in, it’s entirely possible.”  Harry helped Kay up.  “Perhaps Merlin will learn more.”

A voice came from over the glasses, Arthur’s.  “Kay?  Galahad?  Report.”

“I’m afraid we’ve lost our source,” Kay said wearily, leaning against the doorway with his back to the corpse. 

“She’s dead, I take it?”

“Very,” Kay said.  

“Then I suppose we can consider our leads dead with her.”

“Not quite,” Harry said.  He had hoped to find an in through the ring because Kingsman already knew a fair amount about them, but they were not in fact the only lead. 

“Oh?” Arthur asked.

“It seems I’m headed to university,” Harry said.  He picked up some intel from Merlin and did exactly that.

Merlin’s files suggested that Professor Arnold typically arrived to his lectures early.  Harry thought that it was reasonable to conclude that Arnold would behave as he normally did, either because this was somehow a normal day for him despite the events in Argentina- or because he wished to pretend it was. 

It infuriated Harry to an extent that surprised him, that the man Lancelot- James Spencer, rather, there would be a new Lancelot soon- had died trying to rescue had gone back to work as if nothing had happened.  He spoke about climate change or something to that effect- Harry wasn’t sure he even cared.  That Merlin was hesitant to let Harry go- and to let Harry do any job that required finesse at the moment- did not escape Harry. 

As he slipped into the empty lecture hall to wait, he reflected that Merlin could be right.

He took a breath, and then another.  When he found he needed a few more to be anything even resembling calm Harry cursed himself, and finally listened to his voicemail. 

Eggsy’s oldest message sounded like this: “Hey, Harry, it’s- uh- it’s me.  I always thought it was stupid in the movies when people said that.  Like you either know it’s me based on my voice, in which case saying ‘it’s me’ is pretty pointless, or you have no idea who it is either way.  Fuck.  I should- I should start again, or whatever, but you’re probably busy so I’ll just go for it.  Last night was… really amazing, right?  Now I sound like a fucking asshole.  Anyway, I know you said you’d be busy, and that’s cool, you know, that’s fine but- well, I wanted to say that I miss you already and I can’t wait to see you again.  So, uh, call me when you can.  Bye.”   

There was another message.  It began with such a long silence that Harry wondered if Eggsy had actually said anything at all.  He heard a soft sigh in the background, but for a few moments that was all it was. 

Then: “Harry.  You gotta call me back, okay?  I’ve got something I have to tell you, and it could… it could change everything.  Look, maybe you’ve just got too much going on to talk and one day we’re gonna laugh about how stupid I’m being- but if you’re... if you’re freaking out about something and it’s to do with me, you gotta talk to me about it.  You gotta call me back.  Whatever it is, we can figure it out- but only if you talk to me.  The weird silent treatment ain’t gonna make that happen.”  Harry could hear Eggsy let out a rattling breath, and then there was the quiet that Harry knew was Eggsy choosing what to say from several possibilities.  Then he just said, “Okay,” and hung up.  

The texts covered most of the time in between those two calls, ranging everywhere on the spectrum between flirtation and fear.  But there was no text or call asking for help after his arrest.  And judging from the time stamp, the something that could change everything was almost certainly Pellinore’s job offer.  Harry supposed he could take comfort from that.

It was a small comfort though, particularly when Harry knew Eggsy was right.  The silent treatment, even if Harry had never thought of it in those terms, wasn’t going to help.  Harry had told himself that he was protecting Eggsy by not talking to him until he could work through this- but really he was just hurting him more.  What if he never worked through it?  Would he just never speak to Eggsy again?

Harry didn’t know much, but he knew that was unacceptable. 

Before he could second guess himself again, Harry called Eggsy back. 

He didn’t think he had ever known Eggsy- or indeed anyone else- to pick up so fast.  “Harry?” Eggsy said sharply the moment he had. 

Harry let out a long breath.  “Hello, Eggsy.  I’m sorry about the last few days.  I should've... I should've called sooner.”

“The fuck is going on?  Are you... are you okay?”

“Not really.  A friend of mine is dead.”

“Is that all?”  A pause, then, “Fuck, sorry, that was shitty.”  Eggsy took a breath.  “I’m sorry your friend’s dead, that sucks, I just... it’s nothing to do with me, then?  I mean, I didn’t do anything to... I sound so fucking selfish right now.”

“Eggsy, no- it’s not selfish at all.  It’s a completely natural question to ask after how I behaved.  Unfortunately, there is something else.  And I can’t... I can’t say it’s nothing to do with you, though it... it couldn’t be further from your fault.  I just don’t know how to talk about it.”  He had believed it before, and he knew it now.  This should be simple, but it wasn’t.  Harry swallowed.  "I need... time.  To figure it out.”  

It was so strange to think of how happy they had been only a few days ago.  It must have been even stranger for Eggsy, who didn’t know about any of this.  Harry hadn’t realized until the words came out of his mouth that _I need time_ rarely meant anything good.  _I need time_ rarely meant they would stay together in the end. 

Suddenly he wanted to take it back.  Wanted to spit out the words right now, every last one, and if Arnold walked in the middle so be it.  Perhaps all he had felt and thought would make no sense to Eggsy, perhaps it would even hurt him, but at least Harry would have done something.

But before Harry could, Eggsy said, “I think maybe I need time too.”

His voice was so brittle and hurt.  “Eggsy-”

“No,” Eggsy said quickly.  “Seriously, I mean it, I’ve actually been thinking about this.  Something happened to me too.  Something good, I think.  I’ve had... a lotta changes in my life over the last few days.  Maybe I should… figure them out on my own, you know?  Maybe that’ll be good in the long run.  For us.”

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back against the blackboard, letting himself imagine it.  Eggsy, in a cozy little house of his own, with his mother and sister safe, working a good job at the tailor’s shop outside the city.  Eggsy, adjusting to all of that and being so much lighter in himself than he had been all this time.  Eggsy, coming into his own and returning to Harry, once he had, when they could both be free of so many of the complications that had burdened them thus far.

He let himself imagine, too, that he would have sorted himself out by then.  That this whole mess with Lancelot’s killer would have been put to rest, and he would have worked the truth about Eggsy out in his mind, turned it back into the strange and slightly uncomfortable coincidence it was- a funny story to tell their friends someday, how they had known each other before they knew each other and never realized, and not something that felt like it put the burden of every single thing that had happened in Eggsy’s life squarely on Harry’s shoulders. 

“For us,” Harry agreed, talking a breath.

“We’ll talk again soon, right?” Eggsy said.  “I mean, we never go very long without running into each other, do we?”

And since Eggsy now technically worked for the same people Harry did- just a different branch- they would most likely run into each other in the shop someday.  Eggsy didn’t seem to have made a connection between Kingsman and Harry yet, but by then he might have.  Even if he hadn't, Harry would need to explain things then.  Probably it would be very soon indeed- just a few weeks, perhaps and all this would be sorted one way or another.  “Yes,” Harry managed.  “Goodbye then, Eggsy.  For now.” 

“For now,” Eggsy repeated, and hung up. 

Harry hung up too and put the matter from his mind as best he could.  There would be plenty of time to think about Eggsy once he was through with Arnold.  Still, Harry anticipated and dreaded their next meeting in equal measure, and it made him jittery.    

Perhaps if it weren’t for that feeling sparking through his skin Harry wouldn’t have been so forceful with Arnold when he finally arrived.  

Perhaps not. 

*   *   *

Harry didn’t remember much of the encounter, in the end.  He remembered that Arnold had been about to tell him everything before his head exploded just like the woman from the ring’s had.  He remembered men with guns, remembered using his lighter, remembered... blackness.

The first time Harry woke up, all he could see was Eggsy leaning over him.  “Heya, Harry,” he said.  “You owe me a conversation.”  

Harry blinked up at Eggsy, wondering if Eggsy was even real, wondering if he- Harry- was even alive.  He felt strange, like his insides were packed with cotton- but Eggsy's fingers were wrapped around his, he knew that much, and they felt utterly perfect. 

And then everything went dark again.   

The second time Harry woke up, it wasn't Eggsy who was leaning over him.  It was Merlin, asking- in the flattest tone in his extensive repertoire- if Harry was trying to get himself killed.

“I don’t know,” Harry said honestly- the first sentence he had properly made since waking up.  He knew that if he actually wanted to end it all there were more efficient ways to do it- and that he didn’t, not really.  He didn’t want to die, he just wanted... he just wanted his life at the moment to not be his life. 

Unfortunately, that had made him unforgivably careless, and he wasn’t sure things were going to change for the better anytime soon. 

He still remembered seeing Eggsy.  He still felt the touch of his hand.  That had been a dream, certainly; Eggsy might be working for Kingsman now, but even if he was already assigned to the London shop he would never have been admitted to HQ or allowed into the medical wing.  And even if he could manage it, why would he bother?  He had said that a separation might be good for them, but suddenly it was difficult for Harry to believe that with time and distance Eggsy wouldn’t change his mind.  He didn’t need Harry, and once he realized that he wouldn’t want him anymore either- not without the business of Lee hanging over their heads and certainly not _with_ it. 

Merlin said, “You aren't allowed to die on me too, Harry.  I don’t care about your personal problems.”

Harry stared at him.  He remembered what Merlin had said, back when the ring was still their biggest concern.  That Harry’s orders were not to go in unless there was immediate danger to civilians, and only if he had backup.  Lancelot had seen a civilian in danger, and he hadn’t thought he needed backup, and now he was dead.

That could just as easily have been Harry.  He could have died and Eggsy could have ended up rotting away in prison, his call for help forever unanswered. 

And even though he had been lucky there, where had he ended up since then?  How long had Eggsy waited for Harry to say he'd had enough time?  “How long was I out?” he asked.

Merlin looked annoyed by the change of subject, but he answered.  “Three months.  The twins washed out weeks ago.”

That didn't matter to Harry.  Judging from the look in Merlin’s eyes, he knew it too- he was playing with Harry, in a particularly mean-spirited fashion.  Harry supposed he deserved it. 

At a loss for a possible candidate for Lancelot- Harry simply hadn’t had it in him to care about that on top of Lancelot’s death, the fall of the ring, and _Eggsy-_ so he had picked one of Bors’ two nephews.  Bors hadn’t been able to choose between them, so Harry had used the opportunity to put forward a candidate and think no more about it, all while dressing it up as a favor to a friend. 

Harry hadn’t cared.  He still didn’t.  He wondered, idly, how many candidates were left and if Merlin favored one of them in particular, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. 

Merlin said, “I was expecting you to make Eggsy your candidate for Lancelot.”

That would have made a kind of sense, wouldn’t it? 

It would have given Eggsy a job as much as the tailoring would have- but... but it would have required seeing him, something Harry had felt utterly incapable of doing at the time.  Perhaps if it hadn’t been for the revelation that Eggsy was Lee’s son, perhaps even if Harry had had more than a few days to sit with the idea, he might have done it.  But he'd still been reeling- and he could ask Pellinore to offer Eggsy a job, but he could not ask another agent to make someone like Eggsy their candidate.  Once Eggsy was one of his tailors, Pellinore would stand up for him on principle- but while most of the others wouldn't mind a candidate of Eggsy's background, they wouldn't fight for him as they would have to with Chester King in charge.

Harry knew all of this, lying there in the hospital wing months too late for such arguments to matter.  But at the time... the possibility hadn't even occurred to him.

It really didn't matter anymore.  He needed to stop thinking about Eggsy.  Eggsy who hadn’t heard a peep from him in _three months_.  Harry had just thought that Eggsy would undoubtedly move on in time; suddenly he was sure Eggsy already had.  After all, what reason would Eggsy have to wait so long?  None, none at all- and even if he had waited, what would Harry say now?  _When I said I needed time I never meant for it to be this long?_   And in the end he hadn’t had any of that time to work through his very real issues. 

"Well," he said, letting out a breath.  "I didn't, and it's in the past now."

Merlin snorted.

"I'll be more careful," Harry promised, although suddenly he wasn't at all sure he would be. 

Merlin looked as though he doubted it as much as Harry did. 

Harry started to get up.  “I’m fine, Merlin,” he said.  “I need to get to work."

Merlin's look of skepticism grew. 

If there was a better excuse in this world for Merlin to take him off this assignment than him ending up in a coma, Harry couldn't think of one, and yet- "You can't take this away from me."

Merlin's eyebrows would have met his hairline if he had one.  “Well enough to head straight back into the field, are you?”

“Perhaps not straight back,” Harry admitted after a moment.  He was having trouble getting out of the bed.  “But I’m certainly well enough to answer any questions you have that need answering and get back to it.”

And of course Merlin would have many such questions; Harry could see that he did- but what Merlin said was, “You’re well enough to have visitors, then?”

“What visitor?  Our illustrious leader?”

“He’s been by, off and on,” Merlin said.  “But that’s not who I mean.”

There was Kay, Harry supposed- who he had left rather in the lurch.  And Bors might want to commiserate about his nephews. 

Merlin left without making any effort to explain himself.  He wasn’t gone long- just long enough for Harry to finally sit up completely and perch on the edge of his bed- before the door opened again and the last person Harry expected walked through. 

_Eggsy._

Harry only realized that he had spoken the name aloud when Eggsy nodded to him, his expression too complicated for Harry to even begin to read.  “Heya, Harry,” he said- again, it must have been again, because he must have been there earlier after all, sitting by Harry's bedside- “I’d like to say that you look good, but...”

Harry didn’t feel much like laughing, but he did anyway, lifting a hand to his stubble-covered chin and running fingers through his shaggy hair.  “I’m afraid Merlin didn’t give me any time to make myself presentable.”

Eggsy laughed too- though he might not have meant it any more than Harry did.  

“How much...” Harry started.

“How much do I know?”  Eggsy pulled a chair up in front of Harry and sat down in it.  “It didn’t take me too long to figure out that the Kingsman were more than tailors- and what were the chances that you was a spy whose tailors were completely unrelated spies?  Pretty slim, right?  So I was sure you was one of them.  So I asked Pellinore about you, where you was, and he told me you’d had a road accident and were in a coma.”

Eggsy’s eyes had heavy circles under them.  Harry could tell that the news had weighed heavily on him.    

“Went back to London to see Merlin next,” he said.  “He knew I knew you hadn’t been in any road accident, and I knew he knew you was more than somebody I met once or twice, so.  I had like a dozen meetings with Arthur- he’s a real prize- before they finally decided to let me visit you during my off hours instead of wiping my memory or some shit.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Harry said. 

Eggsy shrugged and rested his elbows on his knees.  “You musta known I’d figure out about you and Kingsman eventually, since you’d taken me to the shop that time.”

Harry nodded.  He had been sure Eggsy would figure it out- but he had never imagined Eggsy confronting anyone but him about it.  That was foolish, of course- but he had also never imagined that Eggsy would have to wait three months to get any answers from _him_.

So Eggsy knew that Harry and Pellinore both worked for the same people.  He probably suspected, then, about the medal and Harry’s connection to his father.  Harry was no more ready to talk about it- and more importantly about how it had made him feel and why- than he had been before the coma, but now he was out of time.  He waited for Eggsy to ask.

Before he could- if indeed he intended to- Merlin reappeared, clipboard in hand.

“All right then,” he said to Eggsy.  “You’ve seen him.  Now we have work to do.  Shoo.”

“Why?” Harry asked, surprising himself.  “You gave him clearance to be here.  He is practically one of us, now.”  Harry had meant only to needle Merlin, remind him of what he had said so long ago now about Eggsy, back when he knew who Eggsy was and Harry was still in the dark.  But Harry was more bitter about that than he had realized, and it turned his voice sharp. 

Merlin said, “Why not,” just as sharply, and got to work, putting Harry's feed on the wall screen.

“What do we know about what happened?” Harry asked.  His memories of his misadventure with Arnold were still so vague.  Too vague.

“Not a great deal, I’m afraid.  We had enough chemical residue- both in our cell and on you- to know that Arnold’s head had been blown up in the same way- and possibly by the same people- as that woman from the ring.  I still didn't want to risk waking you- and without you we were missing too many pieces of the puzzle.”

“What does your part of the puzzle look like so far?”

"The explosion came from some kind of implant embedded in Arnold's neck.  It's safe to assume that the woman from the ring had one as well- but McAvoy does not.  Probably the ring was supplying materials to whoever it is we're dealing with, but only management knew enough to compromise them."

"I take it we still don't know who 'they' are?"

"I managed to trace the signal which triggered the explosion to an IP address within the Valentine Corporation, so we've had men watching them."  

“And what is Mr. Valentine up to?”

“He's making SIM cards.”

“In fact,” Eggsy chipped in, “he recently announced that he’s going to give them away to everyone who wants one.  Free internet and calls for life.”

“I doubt that’s all he’s doing.”

“No," Merlin agreed.  "I had one of those cards obtained, and it seems to emit a signal which alters people’s brain chemistry- but I don’t know what the affect is, and I can’t figure it out without knowing how to turn it on.”  He shot Harry an expectant look.

“I can't tell you much.  Arnold seemed entirely harmless.  How he ended up involved with the same people as a high level member of a weapons dealing ring I don’t know- the only thing they have in common is that they were talking to us.  Have you identified anyone else with an implant scar like Arnold's?"

"A few people, including Mr. Valentine's secretary.  This might well go right to the top.  You didn't find any connection between Arnold and Valentine?"

"No.  All I know is that he was a climate change expert, and that he believed the situation to be very dire.”

“What do these SIM cards have to do with climate change?” Eggsy asked.  "Or implants that blow up people's heads?"

“Hopefully, we’ll be able to find out shortly,” Merlin said.  “Valentine is having a gala dinner next week.  Harry will learn more there.”     

“Harry?”  Eggsy looked sharply from Merlin to Harry and back again.  “But isn’t that a bad idea so soon after he woke up?  Can’t somebody else go?”

“Who?”

“Me, if you’re that short-handed.”

“Eggsy, you’ve proven yourself to be an excellent tailor, and undoubtedly you’re also a fine liar- but pass for a reclusive billionaire you will not.  Anyway, I'm not sending a civilian into the field- and certainly not alone.  It was enough of a stretch to let you go to the last gala with Harry.  Arthur will _not_ allow it twice.”

“Someone else, then.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he bristled at Eggsy’s concern for him or at how charmed he actually felt by it, but either way he spoke up sharply, “No.  I can do it.  I _will_ do it.”

“That’s settled then,” Merlin said.  He seemed strangely gung-ho for the assignment, suddenly- but perhaps he thought seeing Eggsy had brought Harry to his senses sufficiently.

Harry hoped he was right. 

*   *   *

The week leading up to Valentine's dinner was a busy one for Harry.  He hadn't been badly injured, but he still needed to be cleared for field work after so long out of the action. 

On the night of the dinner, it was Eggsy who came to deliver the suit he would be wearing.  Harry hadn't seen much of him since he woke up- but he had learned that Eggsy was well-liked among the tailors, and that he had actually done a fair amount of work on this very suit.  When Eggsy arrived, he brought a straight razor and other accoutrements with him as well.  

"C'mere," Eggsy said, setting up a chair over by the sink.  "Let's get you presentable, huh?"

Harry had cleaned up after he woke initially, of course- but he had let himself go, a bit, since then.  He swallowed heavily and obeyed.

"Sit back," Eggsy instructed. 

Harry did, his breath starting to come shallow as Eggsy washed his hair and face with warm water.  "I didn't know Pellinore taught the tailors this," he said, to say something. 

Eggsy laughed softly and lathered him up.  "Pellinore taught me a lot of things," he said.  "But this I already knew."

"Is that right?"

"Mm-hmm.  Had a... repeat customer a while back.  Not as fancy as you or anything, but... he did like a shave.  You'd be surprised how many men do."  Harry heard the sound of Eggsy prepping the razor and shuddered faintly.  "Or maybe you wouldn't."

Eggsy wasn't wrong.  Harry appreciated a good shave, and he wouldn't pretend to have never found it titillating- the slide of the blade, the heat, the hint of danger...  Harry felt like his skin was too small for his body at the thought of Eggsy doing this for him. 

He found so much about Eggsy arousing, and this was certainly no exception- but Harry couldn't really, truly say that that was why he couldn't catch his breath, why the hair on his neck was standing on end.  It could also be because he was still jealous of the men Eggsy had kept company with before, because he still felt like someone had lit a fire inside him whenever he thought of Eggsy doing little things for them.  It could also be because there were too many things still to be hashed out between them, and he didn't want to do it while Eggsy had a razor in his hands.  

Harry changed the subject.  "I hope Kingsman has been good to you," he said. 

"It has," Eggsy said, leaning over Harry and getting his angle just so.  “I don’t know if it was better than you, though."  He said it so casually, accompanied by the first slide of the blade.

Harry didn't gasp, but it was a near thing.

Eggsy took a breath and went in for another pass, the blade sliding smoothly down Harry's cheek.  "Three months is..."  Another pass.  "Well.  It's a long time, innit?"

"Yes," Harry agreed quietly.  His voice was thick, but he didn’t think he could be blamed for that, considering.  “I didn’t mean for it to be so long.  I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“ _Any_ of this?” Eggsy asked, skepticism clear in his voice as he leaned over Harry.  Harry watched as he wiped the blade- precise and careful- and leaned down again, starting on Harry's jaw. 

He knew Harry had more to do with what happened- with his shiny new job for Kingsman- than he had admitted so far.  He must not have been sure how it all fit together- or perhaps he was, and he just needed to hear Harry say it.  But Harry didn't.  He danced around the issue again, like a coward.  "What happened that night, Eggsy?"

“You mean the night I was arrested?” Eggsy said, his tone making it clear that he knew Harry knew more than he was saying.

“Yes.”

Another pass of the blade, and- amazingly enough- Eggsy let him get away with the evasion.  Apparently this calm between them wasn’t over, not yet.  “I felt great after I left the hotel,” he said slowly.  “It was… like a high, really, for a day or two- even when you didn’t call me back or answer my texts.  And Dean seemed happy enough, since the cops never showed up or nothing.  But then we got into it, because sooner or later we always do.  He said some shit, I want off and stole the car off one of his mates.”

“I see,” Harry said.

“Shh."  The razor came up to Harry's throat.  “This is a tricky bit."

Suddenly Harry _couldn't_ speak.  He was lucky he could still breathe. 

Eggsy continued, his voice deceptively mild though Harry knew he could feel it too: "Anyway, I kept waiting for that cop to flash the phone I lost at me, but he never did.  And eventually they had to let me go.  ‘Cos of Pellinore, I guess.”

And there was again, that tone that told Harry Eggsy knew it wasn’t really Pellinore- not all, anyway. 

“So he offered me a job, and when I asked my mum to come with me Dean just... let us go.  Even then I was almost positive that was you.  I didn’t see much of him before we left, but I could see he was scared.  I thought about being mad at you, for meddling after what you said about how you couldn't if you respected me and all- and for calling him instead of _me_ \- but I kept thinking everything was just... too perfect to get mad.  Had a job, had my family safe.  Had you.  But then… you never did call.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again.  Eggsy had finished the shave while he was speaking.  Harry supposed it hardly mattered now, that he would never have let it be so long if he had had a choice.  What mattered was that Harry hadn’t faced this, hadn’t spared Eggsy all that pain while he could- and whether it was intentional or not there had been three months of _nothing_. 

“Hair next,” Eggsy said quietly, patting Harry's face with aftershave and sitting Harry up before starting in with a comb. 

Harry could tell that there had been a shift in his mood, and not a good one- for the conversation, and perhaps for his hair as well. 

“You know,” Eggsy said, voice quiet in counterpoint to the snipping of the scissors.  “When they gave me my phone call, I wasn’t completely sure even as I did it why I didn’t call you.  Maybe because you weren’t answering your phone, maybe because even after everything I was still afraid to owe you while we were trying to build something together, maybe because... it was fate or some shit.  But I called-”

“You called me,” Harry finally said.  He should have known it would be like that- finally, suddenly, blurted out.  His voice was too sharp, too heavy.  “You do understand that, don’t you?”

Eggsy gritted his teeth, combing Harry’s hair again a little too roughly and then snipping at it.  “Of course I fucking do.”  He seemed to run out of energy again very quickly, slumping forward, fingers soft in Harry’s hair.  “It was you who gave me that medal.”    

“Yes.”

“My dad was a Kingsman.”

"He was... almost a Kingsman.  But I got him killed.  I felt I… owed your family because of it.”  Harry wasn’t sure if this quiet was them backing away from the edge or about to tumble over it.

"When I thought about it, I thought I could remember you," Eggsy said.  “Couldn’t exactly confront you about it while you was in a coma though, could I?”

“Well.  I’m here now.”

“Yeah.”  Eggsy gave Harry’s hair a few more snips and stopped altogether.  Harry thought if he turned around and reached for Eggsy in that moment he’d cut himself on the line of his jaw.  “And I been trying to figure out if you was… just keeping an eye on me, you know.  Hanging around me to pay off some kind of debt.” 

Harry felt like he had been slapped across the face.  Why, of all the crimes he had imagined Eggsy might level against him, had that never occurred to him?  Probably because nothing could have been further from the truth. 

But it made sense, didn’t it?  If all the complications between them could have boiled down to a single thing it would have been this: the question of debts, of transactions, of who owed who what.  Of course Eggsy had preferred to ask a stranger for help than Harry.  Of course when he realized that Harry had been that stranger all along his first concern was whether Harry had only ever been in his life because of it.  After so long wanting it to be clear between them that he owed Harry nothing, of course he would have been terrified to think it might actually have been the other way around. 

Yes, it made sense- but Harry was still too stunned to answer for a moment too long. 

In the mirror over his shoulder Harry saw Eggsy’s eyes flash.  “If everything between us was supposed to be some kind of fucked up favor, you can stay the hell away from me.”

Harry thought about protesting, about telling Eggsy he had done a great many things wrong since they had known each other, but never that.  He thought, too, about letting it lie.  When he considered that option, he felt something very like relief.  Eventually it would hit him that he and Eggsy were finished and his heart would break- but he could deal with being broken-hearted and alone (he had been like that before).  He wasn’t sure he could deal with this.  “Is that what you want?” he said at last.  “For me to stay out of your life?”

Eggsy’s eyes widened.  “No, that’s not what I want.  I want you to tell you had no idea who I was and when you realized you just lost it a little.  I want you to tell me all of this woulda gotten hashed out a long time ago if I’d even once worn that medal while I was- you know- working.  I want you to tell me we woulda worked it out then and we’ll work it out now because I mean enough to you for you to at least fucking try. That’s what I want.”

Harry’s chest felt tight; his guts seemed to be doing somersaults.  “Eggsy, you’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with what you knew of this.”  He took a breath.  “But I-”

Eggsy nodded again, going back to cutting.  “I get it, Harry.  And if you still need time, I’ll give it to you.  You’re worth it.”

Harry stared at Eggsy as he finished with his hair, dried him with a towel, and backed off.

He lingered, though, like a specter at Harry’s shoulder.  “But-”

“But?” Harry asked. 

“C’mere.”  He unfolded the suit Harry would be wearing for the dinner.  "I wanna be with you," he said, so matter-of-factly as he helped Harry into his trousers. 

It was hard for Harry to keep still under Eggsy's hands as he started on the shirt, then the jacket.   He felt like he was about to fly everywhere at once. 

Eggsy passed a hand over Harry’s shoulders, checking the fit, and then gripped them tight.  “But if you don’t wanna be with me, if you never did or if you changed your mind for some stupid reason- if you can flip some spy switch in your brain and walk away like nothing happened between us- or if as far as you’re concerned nothing ever did- then yeah, you should leave me alone.”  He tied Harry’s tie with steady fingers, even though his voice was shaking.  “Because I deserve better than that.”

“You do,” Harry said, grabbing Eggsy’s hand as it left him.  “Of course you do.” 

He didn’t say that he wasn’t that man, didn’t love Eggsy, didn’t want to make this work.  He had told a lot of lies to a lot of people in his life, but that one seemed beyond him, suddenly.  But he didn’t say that he _was_ that man, either.  He didn’t drop to his knees and beg Eggsy’s forgiveness or swear to be good to him for as long as he lived. 

He kept thinking about all the mistakes he had made, about how many more he would undoubtedly make.  And once again he stayed there, frozen, for a moment too long. 

Eggsy’s face fell, but of course it did.  How hard could it really be, he must have been thinking, to say _I love you and I want to make this work?_   Not hard at all.  He disengaged from Harry.

Harry opened his mouth, but before he could speak- before he could even decide what to say- Merlin's voice came in over the glasses.  "Your car is ready, Galahad."

Eggsy backed off.  His expression might have been carved of stone.  “Guess you gotta go to work.”

“I-”

“I’m off,” Eggsy said, and made for the door.

“Eggsy,” Harry said.

Eggsy didn’t turn around.  Harry could hardly blame him for it, and Harry was left alone with his perfectly dressed reflection.  Eggsy really was an excellent tailor, he thought. 

*   *   *

Harry went to the dinner and found it curiously lacking in other guests.  He felt numb after his argument with Eggsy, and he wondered only idly if something had given him away- if his cover was too eye-catching, or if someone had seen him with Professor Arnold after all, or if Kay was right and Granby had played a bigger role in all this than they had anticipated. 

Whatever the reason, the game had changed.  Harry tried to get Valentine to tip his hand and- most likely- only showed his own. 

By the time Harry got back to HQ, Eggsy was already gone. 

The next day- or was it two days?- passed in a haze.  He heard from Pellinore that Eggsy had returned to his place in the country.  When Valentine showed up at the shop, Harry was glad of it; he didn’t want Eggsy any more mixed up in all this than he was already.

Harry could tell that Merlin was worried about him, but that he also couldn’t afford to stop Harry from getting to the bottom of whatever Valentine was up to, not even to save his life.  It was too important.

For a while, though, Harry honestly didn’t think it would come to that.  And then the bug they got onto Valentine with a hat finally gave them a timetable, and a place Harry remembered from the dinner.

Merlin begged him not to go alone.  “We're not even planning to do the final test, since Percival’s candidate is the only who’s made it this far.  Take her.”  

Harry didn’t.

He was glad of that on the plane to Kentucky, glad to be alone.  He had a bad feeling again and he wanted whatever happened to him in that place not to happen to anybody else. 

The feeling got worse the longer they were in the air.  There were times when Harry was almost tempted to just turn around, but instead he kept thinking about fate, about choices made and unmade and how he might well have found himself headed to _this_ no matter what he did.   

And thinking about fate made him think about Eggsy, and finally- _finally_ \- come to a decision.  He turned his glasses to recording mode, took them off, and balanced them on the table in front of him. 

A lot of Kingsman made such recordings to be delivered to Merlin- and through him their loved ones- in case the worst should happen.  Harry had never had anyone to make a recording for.  For all he knew, the one he intended to leave for Eggsy would be his last as well as his first. 

"Hello, Eggsy," he said, conjuring a tight smile.  His voice faltered, a little, and he cleared his throat.  "What I do for a living- and the fact that I just spent three of what could have been the most important months of my life asleep- should have taught me better than to leave certain things unsaid.  There's really... no good excuse.  But I've been afraid.  Afraid of making things worse- and maybe also of making things better.  I've never... been much for relationships.  Those few I've had... they didn't really survive the good times, let alone the bad.  I've told myself, lately, that to lose you would be terrible, but at least it would be familiar.  But I've done a lot of thinking, since we last talked.  And I think it would be more than terrible, I think it would be unbearable.  And if I have to go into unknown territory of course, of course it must be with you.  When I get back, I have every intention of fighting for you.  For us.  And perhaps I've lost you- but I will not look back on all this and know that I didn't try."

Harry sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face.  It came away wet, and he almost deleted the recording and started again.  But then he decided that there were worse things he could be, in a message like this, than visibly moved. 

"Unfortunately, if you're watching this, it's likely that I didn't get back.  It's possible, I suppose, that we might watch it together one day if all goes well.  That could conceivably be romantic.  But, more likely we're not together at all."  Harry processed his own words and laughed.  "Look at me now," he murmured, eyes drifting down to the plane's carpet.  "Now I'm in danger of talking _too much_."

He sat up again, hands clasped in his lap, and looked into the camera as he would look at Eggsy if he could.  

"So, to return to things left unsaid.  I had no idea who you were when I met you, Eggsy.  None at all.  When I found out, I... well.  It's as you said, more or less.  I reacted... beyond badly.  So many things went through my mind that I could never even begin to explain them all.  I felt foolish, I felt guilty, I felt... wrong.  But the idea that stayed in my mind the longest, the one I found... most poisonous- was that there were so many things that I would have done for Lee Unwin's son, if I had only known that he would grow up to be you.  And... and that there were so many things I would have done for you, if I had known you were Lee Unwin's son.  And that if I had failed you as someone whose family I owed a great debt- which I felt certain I had- then how much more must I have failed you as someone I loved?" 

He leaned closer.  He could see Eggsy's face in his mind's eye- how he wished Eggsy would look, hearing that.  Like he understood- not because Harry was right to behave as he had, perhaps not even because Harry was right to think what he had, but because he knew that Harry was only human, and that he would be there now, with Eggsy, making amends if he could.  

“Because I do love you, Eggsy.  I’m sorry that I didn’t say so when I should have.  You really do deserve better, but... I should have given you the chance to decide if you wanted to try, once all the cards were on the table.  And I'm sorry that- if you are watching this- it means you- _we_ \- won't get to find out what that would have meant." 

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face again, and again it was wet.  He almost gave up on the idea of the recording altogether.  Was this really the right thing to do?  Wouldn't a cleaner break be better for Eggsy in the end?

But no.  Harry couldn't say that he should have told Eggsy the truth, given him all the information and let him decide from the very start of all this, and then deny it to him again just because it might hurt.  "And I'm so, so sorry that it has to be this way, so sorry that I hurt you, but... I need you to never doubt how wonderful you are, how much you made me feel, even if I was... too much of a fool to know what to do with it.  So.”   Harry swallowed heavily.  "Good luck, and goodbye.  I love you, and I wish you all happiness in the world.  I know... I know you'll find it someday." 

Harry ended the recording just moments before the pilot told him they were about to land. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Oh," Eggsy said. "You're- uh- you're awake." His eyes raked over Harry, lingering on his wound. "And busy. I'll just..." He started to turn, but he never did take his eyes off Harry. "I'll go." He didn't move._
> 
> _"No," someone said. For a moment, Harry thought it must have been him- but it was Merlin who was standing up, Merlin who added, “In fact I’ve remembered something I need to do very urgently. Someone ought to stay with Galahad.”_
> 
> _Merlin was gone before either of them could say a word._

Harry's first thought on waking was: _not again_.

Actually, that wasn't strictly true.  His first thoughts were muddled, a mess of drug-dulled half-impressions.  He thought that whatever happened must have been much, much worse than the incident that landed him in the coma- and he thought that that was almost certainly a bad sign.  And then he strained, trying to remember exactly what did happen. 

It came back to him in starts and stops.  Valentine.  Something about SIM cards.  A test in a church full of civilians who were, frankly, far from innocent.  All that blood on his hands.  Valentine pointing a gun in his face and pulling the trigger. 

He remembered almost nothing from after that.  There was darkness when his eyes were closed and whiteness when they were open.  There were monitors beeping in constant counterpoint to the throbbing of his head.  There was that nothingness again.

When he put it all together, Harry realized he must have been sleeping for a long time- and then, yes, his first thought was _not again._     

Harry was tired of this- this being a bystander in his own life.  He was receiving medical attention, so their side had most likely won- but that was small comfort when he realized that whatever happened, he had missed it, and it had been _bad_.  What happened in the church had been a test only.  What if Valentine had turned those things on everywhere?  Such as he could in his current state, Harry shuddered.  He had never felt anything like it.  All his thoughts- some about Valentine, some about that preacher's hateful rhetoric and how much he would like to make him eat it, but most about Eggsy- had melted into one:

 _The world would be a better place without these people in it_.  And then, slowly, that thought had coalesced into another: _I know how to make that happen._

After that Harry remembered only flashes of gunfire, smoke and so, so much blood.  The holes in his memory were troubling, but probably also better for him from a psychological standpoint.  Everything had seemed to crystallize in his mind, after- and for a moment the bodies sprawled throughout the church hadn't mattered to Harry, nor had whatever was waiting for him outside of it.       

He had brought his hand up to his glasses and asked if Merlin could hear him.  Merlin's voice had been tight when he replied in the affirmative- but after what he just witnessed Harry could hardly blame him. 

Harry said: "Tell Eggsy that I do love him."  He had said so in the recording he made for Eggsy, yes- but perhaps simpler was better.  Easier for Eggsy to carry with him in the- hopefully numerous- days ahead. 

Message delivered, Harry had walked outside.  He exchanged banter with Valentine.  He hardly even processed what it was. 

He heard Merlin say, "Tell him yourself."

He heard Eggsy's voice, too- saying his name, he thought.  That must have been in his mind only.  Eggsy wasn't at HQ- he was in the country, far away from all this.  Safe.    

Valentine pulled the trigger, and Harry really thought that was it.  The end of the story.  But he was awake now- unfocused and in pain but alive.  There was someone sitting in the chair beside his bed.  With so many bandages around his face it was difficult for Harry to see, but slowly the figure materialized into a pretty young woman.  Not Eggsy, in other words- though he had known that before.

He wondered if Merlin had worked out that Harry was alive before delivering the message and thus Eggsy hadn't seen it.  He wondered if Eggsy _had_ seen it but it had come too late.

After a while, Harry identified the woman: Roxy Morton, Percival's candidate.  She was in a full Kingsman suit, and looking very well indeed.  Harry thought it was safe to conclude that she had become Lancelot as Merlin predicted.  She was reading a newspaper, her legs crossed delicately, and she hadn’t noticed his eyes on her yet.

Harry tried to say something sensible, but all that wanted to come out was: “Eggsy.”

For some reason, it made her smile.  She leaned over him, her eyes glittering warmly, and said, “Finally!  We were worried about you.”

“Who’s we?”  Merlin must have been so angry at him for breaking his promise- and he and this new Lancelot had never properly met.  Who else was there? 

She rolled her eyes.  “Who do you think?”  She patted Harry's hand.  “He’ll be back.  He’s got an exam this morning, that’s all.  For now I’ll get Merlin, all right?”

As she drew away, Harry gripped her hand.  “Who are you talking about?”

She looked confused for a moment- but then her expression melted into one of profound sympathy.  “Eggsy, of course.  He’s been in here every free moment he’s had- not that he’s had many, I’ll admit.” 

“Why?”  Harry wasn’t entirely sure which he meant- why was Eggsy still here when Harry had failed to give him a reason to stay, or why had he been that busy?

“I’ll let _him_ explain when he can.”  Lancelot squeezed Harry's fingers. 

Harry let her go the second time she tried to leave, but it was difficult not to panic when she left his sight and he was alone.  She wasn't gone long, though- and she did indeed return with Merlin. 

"Well, well, well," Merlin said.  "Look who's back with us at last."  His voice was sharp, but Harry thought he could still see a glimmer of annoyed affection in his eyes, which was something. 

He bent over Harry.  He tutted as he checked various tubes and inspected all the monitors they were attached to. 

"Why don't you give us a moment, Lancelot?" he said.

She nodded and slipped away. 

"You must have questions."  Merlin continued his examination as he spoke: “Where do you want to start?”

Only one question mattered to Harry at the moment: “Eggsy _is_ still here?”

Merlin produced a light and shined it into Harry's eyes.  “Yes,” he said, softening even further.  “Yes he is.  But not working as a tailor anymore.”  Harry opened his mouth to ask.  Merlin went on before he could: "As you may have guessed, what happened in the church wasn't the last of the unpleasantness.  We had several field agents injured, but only one fatality: Gawain.  Eggsy is Lancelot's candidate for the position."  

Harry chewed on that for a while.  "How long ago was it?  The unpleasantness."

"Just a few weeks, this time."

Harry let out a long breath.  He was relieved it hadn't been longer than that- but it was still too long.  This was something else he was tired of- leaving things with Eggsy unfinished, leaving him alone.  Even if Eggsy was done with Harry at last, he was sorry for it.  "How did Eggsy come to be Lancelot's candidate?" 

Merlin lifted an eyebrow.  “Do you really care about that more than you care what happened to your face?”

“What happened to my face?”

“You got shot in it.  Have you forgotten?”

Of course Harry hadn't.  Looking down the barrel of a gun was a decidedly difficult thing to forget.  But Eggsy was the only thing that had mattered to Harry in the moment that it happened.  He was the only thing that mattered now. 

When he thought he was about to die, Harry had mainly felt like a fool.  Whatever he was thinking and feeling at the time, he should never have let Eggsy walk away with so much unsaid.  The recording wasn't enough to make up for how selfish and stupid he had been.  Even if Eggsy had watched it- which Harry couldn't be sure, now, that he had- Harry still had amends to make.

Assuming Eggsy would let him, which Harry wasn't sure he would.  All he was really interested in knowing right now was how Eggsy was- but he had apparently waited weeks for that.  He could wait a little longer.

"All right, Merlin," he said.  "Tell me about my face."  

Merlin launched cheerfully into his explanation: “We managed to save your eye, though it was a near thing.  It’s about time for me to take the bandages off, by the way.  We were worried you’d sleep through that as well.”

“So Lancelot implied.”

“Yes, she’s grown fond of you by proxy- though that would change very quickly if she knew how you and Eggsy had left things.  Did you really tell that boy you didn’t love him?”

“ _No_ ,” Harry said, perhaps with more emphasis than he had any right to.  “But I may not have told him that I did when I really should have.”

“Harry.”  Harry hadn’t known Merlin could sound quite so reproachful.

“Did he get my message?”

“The one you transmitted to me or the one you said out loud?”

“Both.  Either.”

“I gave him the recorded message when we thought that you had died- which we did, for about a day.  I don’t know if he watched it.”

“He must have if he visited me," Harry said, thinking aloud.  "He told me that if I didn’t feel the same way he wouldn’t stay.  He told me he deserved better, which is true.  He must know that I do.”   

“Maybe,” Merlin said, looking supremely doubtful.  “Or maybe he changed his mind about what he would and wouldn’t do.  You should have seen his face when Valentine pulled that trigger.”

“He saw-”

“Yes.”

Harry didn’t know how to feel- not about Eggsy seeing what he did in that church, and not about Eggsy seeing him get shot- so he fixed on the least complicated part of what Merlin was telling him, “Then at least he heard what I said then.”

“A deathbed ‘I love you’ isn’t the most ironclad in the world,” Merlin said.  “It’s possible he doesn’t believe it- or that he believes it but doesn’t _believe_ it.  You could hardly blame the lad for that."  He fixed Harry with a hard look.  "It is against all odds that you have the chance to fix this.  Don't fuck it up.”

“Noted,” Harry said.  Merlin swore only rarely.  When he did, it meant that whoever he was talking to would do well not to ignore him- and Harry wouldn't.  He _would_ fix this, as he had promised in the recording.  He just didn't know how yet.

Evidently satisfied, Merlin set about taking off Harry's bandages.  As he worked, he told Harry what he had slept through this time: "We discovered that Arthur had turned traitor.  As you can imagine, I wasn't completely sure who to trust after that- but it seems Gawain was the only one who had joined our illustrious leader in helping Valentine instead of stopping him." 

Harry was surprised about Arthur, but not as surprised as he would have liked to be where a man he had known half his life was concerned.  He wondered how early on Arthur had thrown his lot in with Valentine.  Before Harry went to Kentucky?  Before he went to that dinner?  Before Arnold?  Before Lancelot?  Harry didn't know, and perhaps he never would.  But all the enemies Arthur had dismissed out of hand in the lead up to all this took on a different color when Harry knew him to be a traitor.  "Is he-"

"Dead?  Quite."  Merlin didn't linger on the topic.  "Our new Lancelot and Eggsy were among those I was sure I could trust.  They were fast friends, and after we took care of Valentine and started to rebuild-"

"She made him her candidate for Gawain."

"Precisely."

Harry wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that.  He had thought Eggsy would make a good Kingsman many times before.  He was sorry that he hadn't made Eggsy his own candidate for Lancelot; he would have given Roxy a run for her money. 

But...this job had almost killed Harry more than once already.  He hated to imagine that it might one day kill Eggsy.  He hated to imagine Eggsy in danger at all- which he likely had been while Harry was unconscious and unable to protect him.  But being a tailor had been good for Eggsy- and being an agent would be even better.  Eggsy was so strong; Kingsman could make him even stronger.  He wouldn’t need Harry to protect him ever again. 

Merlin finished removing the bandage and looked at his work critically.  He harrumphed and produced a mirror. 

“There you are,” he said.    

“I suppose it’s good I’m not vain,” Harry replied, primarily to make Merlin laugh.  It worked.

It actually didn't look too bad.  The scar was an angry red, and the line of stitches running across his temple and around his eye wasn't exactly fetching- but in time the stitches would be removed and the scar would fade.  It wouldn't be too bad at all.  

Harry was still examining his reflection when the infirmary doors swung open.  He heard squeaking footsteps and then nothing.  Stillness.  He looked up to see Eggsy rooted to the spot. 

"Oh," Eggsy said.  "You're- uh- you're awake."  His eyes raked over Harry, lingering on his wound.  "And busy.  I'll just..."  He started to turn, but he never did take his eyes off Harry.  "I'll go."  He didn't move. 

"No," someone said.  For a moment, Harry thought it must have been him- but it was Merlin who was standing up, Merlin who added, “In fact I’ve remembered something I need to do very urgently.  Someone ought to stay with Galahad.”

Merlin was gone before either of them could say a word. 

Harry knew that his friend was giving him the chance to make things right Eggsy, or at least begin to- but as he looked at Eggsy the words dried up on his tongue.  Eggsy's eyes were darting this way and that.  Before he hadn't seemed able to look at anything but Harry; suddenly the opposite was true. 

Harry hardly recognized his own voice when he said, "I'd be all right.  If you-" 

Eggsy met his gaze sharply.  "If I left?"

Harry still didn't know what to say in the larger scheme of things- but this much he had to get out, immediately: "I mean that if you're uncomfortable and you want to leave, I won't die."  Harry saw how Eggsy's face contorted when he spoke of dying.  "But I... I would like it if you stayed." 

Eggsy didn’t smile, but he softened.  He dropped into the chair that Lancelot had left unoccupied.

For a few moments, Harry just looked at Eggsy- just took in as much of him as he could.  He looked tired- overworked, maybe- but always, always beautiful.  Harry wanted to do more than look, he wanted to touch Eggsy, explore him with hands as well as eyes- but he didn't entirely trust himself to move, and anyway he wasn't sure Eggsy would permit it.

As he watched, Harry waited for Eggsy to bring up the message, explain his presence here, say _something_ \- but he didn't.  Harry supposed he could hardly blame Eggsy for not helping him.  This was Harry's mess.  Harry was supposed to fix it.  He had said what he could only hope were the right words on that recording- but with Eggsy in front of him once again, they melted away.  If Eggsy hadn't watched it- and possibly even if he had- that was the exact opposite of what needed to happen. 

Finally, Harry managed, "How are you?"

Eggsy shrugged.  "I'm all right.  Busy, I guess.  Did you hear I’m Rox's candidate for Gawain?”

"Yes," Harry said.  "It- it would suit you."

Eggsy's smile was tiny, but it was real.  "You wanna play cards or something?" he asked.  He sat up and dug around in the drawer by Harry's bedside, producing a deck. 

Harry almost said yes.  It was relatively clear that Eggsy didn't feel like talking, and Harry was tempted to follow his lead- but they needed to do this _now_ , and even if he began it obliquely Harry had to begin it all the same.  "I'd _like_ to talk."

"'Bout what?"

"What happened, to begin it."

Eggsy froze, cards held loosely in his hand.  "On V-Day?  Merlin didn't tell you?"

"He told me in broad strokes- although he didn't mention what people were calling it."

"Right."  Eggsy cleared his throat.  He fiddled with the cards, shuffling and cutting the deck as he spoke.  "Well, Valentine's whole plan was to take out most of the population to save the world.  He was going to turn on those SIM cards and have everybody kill each other.  He only managed to do it for a minute or two, though, so it wasn't actually too bad."

"Is that how Gawain was killed?"

"He sided with Valentine like Arthur- you knew that, right?"  When Harry nodded, Eggsy added, "Well, he had one of them implants in his head.  Merlin ended up having to turn them on."

"I see."  Harry remembered the mess Professor Arnold and that woman had made.  Harry had never been close to Gawain, and he wasn't surprised at all that Gawain had joined Chester King in betraying them, but it was still a shame it had come to that.  "Thank you for telling me, Eggsy- but I was actually hoping to hear a bit more about you."   He knew that Eggsy had helped- but his exact journey from tailor who knew too much to candidate for Gawain was still something of a mystery.

Eggsy set the cards aside.  "I'd come back," he said.  "I was with Merlin when you… when Valentine shot you.”

Harry held his breath, wondering if Eggsy would mention what Harry had said just before that happened. 

Eggsy didn't.  His mouth twisted sharply and he scrubbed a hand over his face.  “We all assumed you was dead.  Arthur had the agents drinking a toast before I could even blink, it felt like.  I lost it a little.  Confronted him.  It shouldn’t have surprised me, I guess, that he’d found out what was going on between us.  Or thought he had, anyway.  He assumed that we-”

“That we had been fucking since we met.”

Eggsy gave a little wince and nodded.  “He said he knew how much I meant to you, and he offered me a cushy spot in his new world.”

“In my honor?” 

Eggsy shrugged.  “Guess so.  It wasn’t ‘cos I was his favorite tailor, that's for sure- but I’m thinking probably he didn’t mean it all that much since he was also trying to poison me.” 

And obviously Eggsy had outsmarted him in the end, but Harry’s chest still clenched. 

Eggsy read that reaction on Harry's face.  His mouth quirked.  “Swapped glasses on him.”

It was different to think of Arthur's death knowing that Eggsy had caused it.  Harry didn’t blame him, of course- Eggsy had been defending himself- but it must have been a heavy thing.

As far as Harry knew, Eggsy had never killed before.

“And then?” he asked. 

“He had an implant too.  I recognized the scar from when Merlin briefed you.  I brought it to Merlin and he decided to keep me around.  Had me take out a satellite in this star wars thing.”

“You were in space?”

Eggsy’s eyes gleamed.  “Kinda.”  He waved Harry off.  “All I had to do was point and click.  I'm lucky Merlin let me do even that after I teased him about letting civilians into the field after all.  Rox did the hard stuff, believe me.”

“She still made you her candidate for Gawain.  You must have impressed her.”

“Guess so.  Anyway, I landed in the middle of someplace frozen and shitty.  I was supposed to just wait until they finished with Valentine so Merlin could pick me up, but by then we’d figured out that you wasn’t dead, so I found my way to Kentucky instead.”

Eggsy's hand was balled into a fist on his knee.  Harry wanted to put his own over it, but he wasn't sure it would be appreciated.  So he simply thanked him.

Eggsy nodded jerkily.  His fingers loosened.  The bright and almost manic look in his eyes faded.  “And Rox was brilliant, taking out Valentine and his people like she did.  There was even this bit with a princess- probably shouldn’t tell you about that."

“Perhaps not,” Harry agreed.  He couldn’t help staring at Eggsy.  He seemed so confident and settled- everything Harry could have hoped he might be on the other side of their separation.  And just like that, Harry knew what to say- or at least how to make a start.  “I want you to know how… proud isn’t the word for what I am, because it implies involvement in your success that I simply didn’t have.  But you’ve done so well for yourself, and I'm so happy for you.  Neither of us could have foreseen all that's happened back when you told me that going forward alone might be good for you, but clearly it was.”

Eggsy nodded, but he looked sad.  “But that ain’t what I said, is it?  I said it’d be good for _us_.”

"I know you did."  As much as he appreciated all that Eggsy had achieved without him, Harry wanted them to meet whatever was next together.  Eggsy needed to know that.  He needed to know how little all of Harry's reasons not to try had meant to him when he thought he was about to die.  "Did you listen to the recording I left?" Harry asked.  "Merlin said he gave it to you."

"Yeah- back when we thought you didn't make it.  But with so much going on I didn’t have a chance to look at it, and after- when you was alive but in the hospital and we didn’t know if you was gonna wake up- I just... couldn’t.  I knew it’d be you saying goodbye, and I was so sure that if I listened to it you wouldn’t wake up at all and it’d be goodbye for real, so- no, I didn’t.”

"And you still haven't?"

"You're not dead, Harry."

"No.  No, I'm not."  And as long as he wasn't dead, Harry could find a way to say it all again.  He sat up as best he could, holding Eggsy's eyes: "I'm so sorry about the things I said- and didn’t say- before I left.  I should know better- by now- than to ever let you walk away without-"

"I know you didn't know who I was all that time," Eggsy said in a rush, like he'd been planning it.  "I knew it almost the moment I said it, and everybody else told me the same thing."

Harry let out a breath.  That was something, at least.  "That's good.  But it's even more important that you know I-"

“Stop.”  Eggsy said that like he'd planned it too.  He covered Harry's mouth.  “Don’t.  I know it’s only been a few weeks, but everything’s changed.  I know... I know we have to hash this out.  And it's not that I don’t-" Eggsy's voice cracked a little- "it’s not that I don’t wanna hear what you have to say, I just… I want _this_ too.  I wanna be a Kingsman, Harry.”

“I want that for you too,” Harry said against Eggsy’s fingers.  

"Okay," Eggsy said, nodding rapidly.  "Good."  He dropped his hand.  "So the thing is, I can't- I can't be distracted, okay?"

"And seeing me regularly without talking about where we go from here _isn't_ distracting for you?"

Eggsy laughed sadly.  "I don't know, okay?  I just... all I know is that it's always been so fucking complicated between us.  But... but you know how sometimes it would seem like it wasn’t?”

Harry nodded. 

“Do you think it could just be like that again?  Just until the trials are over, either way?”

Harry wasn't sure that waiting- again- would be the best course of action for them; but after everything that had happened, the way he had behaved...  If Eggsy asked it of him, Harry would find a way to oblige.  “Yes,” he said.  Eggsy's hand had come to rest on the edge of Harry's bed, and he reached out at last and patted it gently.  “I think it could.”

Eggsy turned his hand underneath Harry's and squeezed his fingers.  He smiled.  It was a bit melancholy, but it gave Harry hope that, one day, they might still be able to pick up where they left off. 

Or- no.  Not where they left off.  Somewhere better.   "Would you still like to play cards?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Eggsy said, and so they did.

*   *   *

“I’ve grown fond of that boy, Harry.  I’d rather you didn’t hurt him.”

Harry got his share of visitors.  Eggsy came almost daily to play cards; Merlin appeared periodically to check on him and bring news, as did Lancelot, Kay, and Bors; Percival dropped by once, but just talking had never been his strong suit so he didn't stay long.

But this was Pellinore's first visit, and Harry been able to tell from the moment he arrived that it wouldn't be a particularly friendly one.

Sure enough, Pellinore sat down, looked Harry over critically, and brought Eggsy up straightaway.

If he wasn't so glad that Eggsy had gathered so much support within the organization, Harry would have been offended.  Pellinore had known him for a lot longer than he had Eggsy, after all.  As it was, Harry rather appreciated it.  “Is it enough for now if I tell you that I don’t want to hurt him either?”  

Pellinore grunted.  “Possibly.  You aren’t doing much harm from here, but what happens when you're released?”

There were times when Harry wasn't sure he would _ever_ be released.  He had thought before that he was getting too old for this, but now he knew it absolutely.  His body was stubborn, uncooperative, weak. 

But- interminable as it seemed- Harry did know, logically, that his stay in the medical wing wouldn't be permanent.  And of course he had wondered what would come next.  When Eggsy visited, they talked of inconsequential things- his short but interesting career as a tailor, the films Harry had missed over the course of his two long sleeps, that sort of thing.  Mostly, Harry took it as a sign that things could indeed be uncomplicated between them for now.  But Eggsy rarely spoke of his experiences as a candidate.  He changed the subject whenever Harry brought it up, making it difficult for Harry to find his footing.  Would they see less of each other once Harry was released?  That seemed likely.  How long after that would Eggsy be finished with the trials?  Harry didn't know.

He knew only one thing for sure.  "When the time comes, I will tell him everything.  And he'll make his choice."

Harry wasn't good at letting things play out on their own.  Of course he had thought about what Eggsy's choice would be.  Of course he sometimes let himself hope that Eggsy wouldn't have put him off like that only to end things later. 

Of course he sometimes feared he was wrong.

“Fair enough," Pellinore said.  "But when is the time going to come?”

"When he wants it to, I suppose.  Possibly you aren't aware of this, but he _asked_ me not to speak of it until after the trials were over.  After all the trouble I caused, putting off telling him everything all the times I did, I don't like waiting now- but I gave my word.  And I won't pretend not to see the advantages to waiting."

"You want him to be an agent first, don't you?"   

“If he is to be an agent, yes.  I do."

Pellinore raised his eyebrows.  “You doubt him?”

“I don’t doubt his courage or his resourcefulness,” Harry said.  “He would make a good Kingsman- don’t think for a second that I don’t truly believe that.  But... I don’t see how he could pass the final test.  I’m sure you got to know him while he was a tailor, but…”  Harry doubted that Pellinore knew how gentle Eggsy could be, how selfless and kind.  Sometimes Harry was sure Eggsy was too good for him, too good for Kingsman, too good for them all.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“What do you know that I don’t?”

“I know a lot of things you don't," Pellinore replied.  "Two of them concern Eggsy's candidacy.  I have seen almost twice as many trials as you, my boy, and I have never seen a candidate more motivated than that young man.  Perhaps, in another life, he wouldn’t have passed that test, but I think he’s far too driven to turn away now.”

Harry still couldn’t imagine Eggsy pulling the trigger on an innocent animal- even if he guessed there were blanks in the gun- but he didn’t argue.  “Is that only one of the things?”

“It is.”

“What's the other?”

“With Chester King gone and a replacement not yet selected, Arthur is… something of a conglomerate.  Merlin, Percival and Kay mostly, but everyone plays their part- including me.  And that girl-”

“Lancelot?”

“Feels very strongly that we need to get a new final test.”  Pellinore looked thoughtful.  “I don’t know if she’ll get her way in time for this batch of candidates, but she will get her way eventually.”  He patted Harry’s arm.  “My point is, things are changing.  Don’t write him off.”

*   *   *

The coma, after Professor Arnold, had been much easier to shake off than the church proved to be.  On a logical level, Harry understood why; being shot in the face was nothing to make light of, and in addition he had several bruised ribs, a knife wound, and multiple smaller injuries to contend with- not to mention the psychological toll.  But on an emotional level, Harry was too bored to care about logic.  

He felt like he had spent a lifetime in the medical wing when Merlin finally appeared in his room and said, "I'm tired of having you in my infirmary, Harry.”

“I’m tired of being in your infirmary, Merlin,” Harry replied. 

“Good."  Harry noticed something obnoxiously doubtful in Merlin's tone, but was unable to account for it.  “You are hereby ordered to begin your physical therapy."

Harry was pleased to hear that, but dubious nevertheless.  He had yet to make more than a handful of journeys through the medical wing, and never without a cane or someone holding his arm.  "Are you sure you aren't rushing this?"

"I'm not sure, no," Merlin said with surprising ease.  "You would know your limitations best, of course."  

Harry was surprised- and disappointed, naturally.  He hadn't expected Merlin to concede the point so easily; he had hoped Merlin would fight him on it, tell him it was high time he got on his feet and stayed there.

"I have something else to discuss with you, anyway," Merlin said. 

 _Ah._ Most likely Merlin had come to talk about this something else and begun with an impossible order merely to needle Harry.  He sighed.  "Why am I not surprised?"

“Because- however it may sometimes appear- you are not a stupid man.”

Harry gave another sigh and ignored the dig.  “What is it, Merlin?”

“As you probably already know, we’ve been putting off voting in a new Arthur and relying on a more… democratic system.”

“From what I’ve heard, most of the agents prefer it.”

“Most of the agents were only a little surprised when Chester King turned out to be a traitorous bastard.  Most of the agents were getting tired of the way he did things.  Of course they find this refreshing.  But we do in fact need a leader.”

Harry didn’t bother to protest.  Merlin obviously wasn’t in the mood for a policy debate- and, more importantly, he was right.

“So,” Merlin said.  “Do you want the job?”

“No.”  Harry had never coveted the Arthur position and he suspected he would be no good at it- but, more personally and far more importantly, he knew that if Pellinore was right and Eggsy became the next Gawain, he could not be Eggsy's boss.  Perhaps in another life, where things stood differently between them, it might have worked... but now?  No, certainly not now, and possibly not ever. 

Harry would turn Merlin down even if he was the best choice for Arthur, because whether or not he had burned all his bridges with Eggsy he wanted to do right by him from here on out.  Much more than he wanted to do right by Kingsman. 

Lying there in that stupid hospital bed, Harry realized that he loved Eggsy more than he loved his job- and judging by the look on his face, Merlin knew it. 

“You _were_ shot in the head,” he pointed out, like he was testing Harry.  “And you're having such a slow recovery.  Maybe it's time for you to get out of the field for good.”

“I’d ask for Pellinore’s job before Arthur’s."

Merlin looked thoughtful.  “Do you _want_ Pellinore’s job?”

“Of course not."  Harry had always thought it wouldn’t be a bad way to end his career, but most of the time he hadn’t been sure he would last that long.  And he certainly didn’t want it before he was much, much closer to Pellinore’s age.

“Then what about leaving entirely?”

“Leaving?” Harry repeated.  When had _that_ been put on the table?

Merlin sighed and sat down, clipboard under his arm.  “Harry.  I know you’ve felt... jaded for some time now.  For you, Arthur was part but not all of it.  This could be your chance to start a new life.”

“I don’t know what I would be if I wasn’t a Kingsman.”

“That’s fair,” Merlin said.  “Neither do I.  But it isn’t a reason to stay, not on its own.” 

"I know," Harry said.  "And there are... reasons I might leave."  There was still the possibility that Eggsy wouldn’t- couldn’t- give Harry another chance.  In that case, it might be difficult for him to work with Harry- and Harry would quit after all.  He was willing to give up Arthur for Eggsy; he might as well go all the way.  "But for now I think we should assume I'm staying."

"Why?" Merlin asked.  Obviously he wasn't going to let Harry take this for granted. 

“Because the world needs Kingsman more than ever- but it also needs Kingsman to be different more than ever.  I may have never thought Arthur would betray us like that, but he betrayed us in spirit long ago.  And with Gawain gone too, everyone here knows it.  The way he handled things- the elitism, the favors... it needs to _change_.”

“I’ve been working on exactly that since it happened.”

"I know you have," Harry said.  "And if all goes well, I intend to be a part of it.  And maybe in a few years I will retire- but for now I’m in this.” 

Merlin smirked.  “So you want to remain Galahad.”

“Yes.”

“Then act like it.”

Harry just stared, silently, at his friend for a long moment.  Did Merlin think he didn’t _want_ to get better?  Did he think he was still in this bed because he preferred not to leave it?

He almost laughed, almost told Merlin he had the wrong end of the stick this time, but then he stopped.  Had he been frustrated over the last few weeks?  Certainly.  But normally he would have been much _more_ frustrated.  Normally he wouldn’t have lain around waiting for Merlin to let him start the next phase of his recovery- he would have pushed for it, constantly.  Why hadn’t he?

The answer was obvious.  It was the same reason he had turned down the Arthur position, and the same reason he would leave if necessary: Eggsy.  He didn't know where he stood with him.  He wouldn't until after the trials ended, something over which he had no control.  But things had been easy- too easy, perhaps, dreamlike and almost unreal- while he was confined to the medical wing.  That might change, and Harry had no idea what it would change into.  Perhaps he had been subconsciously dragging out his recovery to avoid that. 

If so, it was time for him to stop.  Time to get on with life. 

“Understood,” he told Merlin.    

Merlin looked pleased.

And so Harry began his physical therapy.  It was exactly the nightmare he remembered it being.  Even when he was a young man he had hated the process of putting himself back together after an injury; now that he was older and his joints were less responsive even when they hadn’t been battered and brutalized, he hated it even more.  He heard it go through the Kingsman medical staff who hadn’t been around long enough to know from personal experience: if Galahad was trouble while he was confined to his bed, he was even worse out of it. 

There were times when he worried that he wouldn’t make it this time, that it had been a mistake not to take Merlin’s offer of retirement rather than humiliate himself further.  His hands had taken on the awful habit of shaking- and sometimes, when Harry saw a cross or someone with hair of a certain color, the rest of him started shaking too. 

He wasn't sure how long he could go on like this, and he hadn't even progressed to the difficult bits yet. 

If Harry had expected to see less of Eggsy now that he was in the later phases of his recuperation, he had been wrong.  Now that he was able to walk the halls of HQ, Harry often saw Eggsy and the slowly dwindling number of trainees.  Their clear familiarity had led most of the trainees to conclude that Harry, and not Roxy, was Eggsy’s sponsor. 

Eggsy still visited Harry whenever he got the chance; sometimes in the mornings or evenings while he was in his bed, sometimes over lunch, and sometimes while he was in middle of his physical therapy.

That last had bothered Harry at first.  “I’m something of a terror when I’m recuperating,” he told Eggsy, once, sweating and panting and sipping water between activities.  “I don’t want to-” _say something that hurts you again over something so stupid_.  More than that, Harry didn’t want Eggsy to see what a mess he was at the moment, didn’t want the light that had been in Eggsy’s eyes in the McDonald’s so long ago dimmed when he realized what Harry had become. 

“Don’t think I can take it?” Eggsy asked.  His lips were curved into a smile, but his eyes had steel in them.

“I don’t think you should have to.”

That softened Eggsy a little.  “Look, Harry,” he said.  “If this is when I can see you, then it’s when I’m gonna see you.  But I’ll leave you to it as much as I can, all right?”

“All right,” Harry agreed. 

So time went on.  Eggsy avoided Harry’s therapy sessions when he could and tolerated his temper with what seemed like fondness when he couldn’t.  Harry’s condition improved.  He got most of his mobility back; he was allowed to leave the medical area of HQ and go to his rooms at the manor more often; he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was cleared to start training properly.  It was going, Harry thought, as well as could be expected.

Still, he wasn't surprised when the other shoe finally dropped- though he was a little surprised by what the other shoe turned out to be.  Not his own body betraying him, but Merlin coming up with a... Harry refused to call it a plan. 

He had been told by one of Merlin's underlings- a pale faced and stuttering girl- that Merlin wanted to see him.  Everyone had been shy around him since the church- or perhaps before.  Harry felt as if he had passed through the days between Lancelot's death and his coma half asleep.  Who knew, really, how they had looked at him then?

Harry thanked her as genially as he could and made his way to Merlin's office.  When he arrived, he dropped into the chair in front of Merlin's desk.  Merlin was going through papers- tests from the various trainees, by the look of them- and he didn’t so much as glance up at Harry.  Harry hadn't felt this much like a wilful student sitting before the headmaster since he was, in fact, a wilful student sitting before the headmaster. 

Just when Harry was beginning to wonder if Merlin could possibly have failed to notice his arrival, Merlin said, “I gather you’ve pulled yourself together relatively well," without looking up.

"I suppose so," Harry said slowly. 

“Good.  I have an assignment for you.”

Harry stared at the shining top of Merlin's head.  He felt a lurch in his gut, one that he tried and failed to tell himself was not apprehension.  "You want to put me back in the field?"

Merlin snorted and waved a hand.  "No, no- this assignment is right here in HQ.  But of vital importance, I assure you.”

“What is it?”

“Since V-Day Kingsman has been spread unusually thin, and Lancelot cannot be here as much as I would like, for a knight with a candidate from such an... unusual background.  Eggsy will need help, with languages and politicking and table manners, that sort of thing.”  

"And you want me to do it?"

Merlin finally met Harry's gaze.  “You are the one to hand,” he said with deceptive mildness. 

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”  Harry understood why Eggsy might need help going forward- but if he agreed to this his promise not to speak of his feelings would get much harder to keep. 

“I don’t care what you’re sure about,” Merlin replied, putting his papers aside with a touch more force than necessary.  “You thinking is what got us into this mess to begin with, and my solution is simple: I’m telling you to help Eggsy.  I'm also telling you that if he doesn’t pass the trials with flying colors, you won’t be cleared to go back to active duty.  Ever.”   

“What if he fails to become Gawain even _with_ my help?”  Harry didn’t mean that how it probably sounded.  He was willing to quit for Eggsy; if he lost his position because of him it would amount to more or less the same thing.  Harry was prepared to accept it.  But... if Merlin put them through so much for so little...

“There _is_ another open seat, you know,” Merlin said. 

Harry couldn’t help it; he stared at Merlin, slack-jawed.  Was it possible that someone else had died and no one had told him about it?  Hadn’t Merlin _said_ only Gawain-

Merlin rolled his eyes.  “I’m talking about Arthur- the position you refused, remember?  Percival said he would stage his own death before he took it on.  You’re lucky Kay finally agreed or I would have come back to you and not taken no for an answer.” 

“ _Kay’s_ going to be Arthur?”

“That’s right- and in a bid for my favorite to ever hold the position, he waived his right to choose his own replacement.”

“I don’t…”  Harry swallowed.  “I don’t understand.”

“If- at any point over the course of the trials- there should happen to be only two candidates left, one of them will become Gawain and the other will simply become Kay.”

From the heaviness in Merlin’s voice, Harry could tell that he truly believed Eggsy would be one of the two.  And he supposed it was high time he had more faith in Eggsy than two men who had known him nowhere near as long.  “All right,” he said.  “I accept your assignment.  Of course I do.”

He rose- but then Merlin laid a finger over his wrist, stopping him cold.  “That is only half of what I have in mind.”

Harry frowned.  “What’s the other half?”

“Eggsy isn’t the only one who needs help going forward.  You’re doing better, of course, but you haven't won the battle yet.  I know you, Harry.  You do your best work when you only have one choice.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you fail any of your upcoming physicals, Eggsy won't pass the trials.”

It took Harry a few moments to confirm that he had indeed heard that correctly- and when he did... Harry wasn’t even sure how he felt.  Shocked.  Angry- no, furious.  He felt too much to even speak properly, managing only, “Excuse me?” 

Merlin smiled benignly.  “You will help shore up Eggsy’s knowledge of those areas in which it is lacking, and he will help you get up to snuff physically.  And if either of you fail, the other will as well.  You may now tell me what an excellent plan that is.”

Harry finally managed more: “An excellent plan?  It’s lunacy.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.  Pellinore certainly approves.”

“Interfering old bat.”

“You asked him to interfere in the first place, as I recall.  Kay approves as well, and since he is now in charge...”

Harry sputtered.  “Does Eggsy know what you’re doing to us?”

“He does.”

“And he agreed to it?”

“He did.”

“Of course he did,” Harry spat.  “I’m sure you gave him no choice in the matter.”  He thundered out of the room, and Merlin didn't do anything to stop him that time.

He just said, “Dismissed,” mildly, as if he had expected that exit all along. 

After a little less than an hour of searching- time in which Harry had not cooled down, only stewed further- Harry found Eggsy in the library.  It was mercifully empty of other trainees.  Good.  They didn’t need to hear this.

"Merlin's just told me his little plan," Harry said without further introduction. 

"Right."  Eggsy pulled a face and put his book aside.  "Sorry I didn't warn you." 

Half-formed- and stupid, since the timing made it impossible- thoughts in which Eggsy had known just how close they were going to get back when he asked to put off their conversation evaporated.  Resentful ideas about how Eggsy must have asked it to torment him, to get revenge, faded and left Harry strangely empty.  Of course Eggsy hadn’t known then- he couldn’t have.  And he was never senselessly cruel.  Harry collapsed into the seat opposite Eggsy.   

“Look," Eggsy said.  "I know it ain’t ideal, but I do need some help and he- well, he ain’t easy to argue with, is he?”

“No,” Harry agreed.  “No, he is not.”

“So...”

“So it isn’t fair,” Harry said, knowing he sounded childish but not entirely caring.   

Eggsy’s face contorted.  He looked amused more than anything, but a twist of hurt and anger skewed it at the edges.  He shrugged one shoulder.  “He’s the boss, right?”

“The boss,” Harry muttered.  “He’s being a tyrant!  Which is exactly what was supposed to change around here.  How dare he put all that on you?  The trials are grueling enough without added lessons.  If you need them to feel confident I am of course at your disposal- but basing your success on mine?”  Harry looked at his hands with disgust.  They were shaking again.  “It’s completely-”

Eggsy reached across the table and took those hands suddenly. 

When Harry looked up at him his face had changed utterly, gone all soft and wide-eyed. 

“It’s okay, Harry,” he said.  

Harry realized in a flash that Eggsy must have thought Harry meant his complaint the other way around- that he had been angry not on Eggsy’s behalf but his own, angry that his future as an agent would depend on Eggsy’s competence.  He felt even angrier suddenly.  "It's not okay," he said.  He hated that Eggsy still doubted how much he meant to Harry- that even if everything went perfectly when they did finally talk he might still doubt it for a long time.  "This is because of _me_ , Eggsy.  Because he thinks I'm... insufficiently motivated."

Eggsy looked like he didn't completely believe that, but Harry went on before he could protest.  

"I could retire.  Then they wouldn't be able to hold me over your head.  And I could still help you with your training, if you wanted that- or someone else could.  Pellinore, for instance.  _He_ isn't any busier than usual."

"Harry-" Eggsy's eyes had gone wider still- "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I would leave Kingsman if that would make things easier for you."  He really did want to be a Kingsman again, but it was entirely possible that he couldn't.  He wouldn't be the weight dragging Eggsy down too.  And if- "Either in this, or if- if you didn't think you could work with me-"  

Eggsy stared.  “Harry, this job is everything to you.”

Harry shook his head, the words _you’re everything to me_ heavy on his tongue.   Ever since he had realized it, Harry had wanted to shout it from the rooftops.  But he had promised not to speak of his feelings yet- and anyway it was too much to put on Eggsy’s shoulders.  It might make it sound like Harry expected to get Eggsy in return for his sacrifice.   

“No way, Harry,” Eggsy said, his mouth twisting, his eyes still oh-so-wide.  “I don’t- I never imagined this place without you in it.  It's really gonna be okay.  Merlin planned it real good.  We’re working on my manners and stuff on days when I’d be studying anyway.  And we’re sparring and doing marksmanship after long days of playing nice with the others, so you’d better believe I’ll be down to blow off some steam.  It’ll _be okay_.”

"I don't think you understand that _I_ might not be.  What if I choke the first time I pick up a gun?  What if I-”

“Do you _want_ to be a Kingsman again?”  Eggsy looked as if he thought he had been incredibly remiss not to have asked Harry that a moment ago when he offered to quit. 

Quitting would, Harry thought, have to be easier than _this_.  But- “Yes.  I do.”

“Then you’ll make it work.”  Eggsy held his gaze gravely.  “I know it, I’m just here as... you know... support.”

Harry nodded, his chest tight.  Eggsy was so much better than he had ever deserved.  “Thank you,” he managed.  “And I’ll do my best to help you.  I doubt you need much.”

Eggsy laughed too, awkward, but- Harry thought- genuine.  “You can think again about that.”

Harry pulled the book Eggsy had been reading back between them.  “We had better get to work, then.”

*   *   *

And so they did. 

Harry wasn't surprised to find that Eggsy was a quick study, or that he already knew more than Merlin- or he himself- gave him credit for.  Harry loved watching him learn and excel.  

Overall, Harry was enjoying himself more than he had expected to.  Yes, there were moments when all that time together was bittersweet- moments when not taking Eggsy into his arms, not kissing him, not saying  _I was a fool for ever leaving you to think that I didn't adore you completely_ felt like the hardest thing Harry had ever done- but for the most part Harry thought that Eggsy really had been right about them.  That this could be easy if they just let it be.    

And when Eggsy was no longer a candidate, for good or ill?  Harry wasn't sure what would happen then, but for now he was content enough.  Content with Eggsy's sweet smile when Harry praised him, his joyful look when he got something right, his boundless enthusiasm when he did well on a test.

It was safe to say that Harry was less pleased with his own training.  He had been cleared for marksmanship practice- and worse yet, sparring.

The first time they took to the mat, Eggsy had Harry flat on his back in minutes.  It had been a very long time since anyone- let alone a trainee- had managed that.

“Teach you go easy on me,” Eggsy said, with surprising venom.

"I wasn't," Harry told him from the floor.

Eggsy looked doubtful, then concerned, then angry.  He cursed under his breath.  “It’s one thing to try to keep you from thinking too much,” he said.  “It’s another to actually push you into stuff you ain’t ready for."

Harry had been thinking exactly that, ever since his hand did in fact shake horribly the moment he picked up a gun and they decided to leave off marksmanship training for a while longer.  He wasn't sure he liked hearing it from Eggsy's lips, though.  

Eggsy reached out with one hand, a silent offer to help Harry up.  "Do you need a rest?" he asked.   

Harry took the hand, and- while Eggsy's center of balance was thus disrupted- swiped a leg underneath his ankles. 

"Fuck," Eggsy said.  He managed to tighten his grip on Harry as he went down.  The move was more messy than skillful, but Harry couldn't deny that it got results. 

He landed half on top of Eggsy.  “Teach _you_ to go easy on _me_ ,” he said in Eggsy's ear. 

Eggsy still felt so very good- so very right- underneath him.  Harry noticed that Eggsy was shaking and almost panicked- until a second after that, when he noticed that Eggsy was _laughing_.  He was still laughing as they helped each other up, elbows and ankles and shoulders and hips brushing in a frenzy of heat and electricity.  Harry was keenly aware of every point of contact.

Before they parted, Harry clapped Eggsy on the shoulder.  "If it's any consolation, you really did have me before."   

Eggsy lifted an eyebrow, smile not quite gone.

“I was distracted, I suppose.”

Eggsy looked thoughtful as he backed off from Harry and squared his shoulders.  "Not distracted anymore?" he asked.  He started to circle Harry, clearly ready for another round. 

Harry shrugged, moving in counterpoint.  It was the most honest answer he could give.  Sulking about his current insufficiencies had become habit, of late, but he was trying not to let it take up too much of his focus.  How graceful and fierce Eggsy looked, circling him like a predator, was another matter. 

It had distracted Harry plenty thus far, and he didn't think it was done.    

"Am I safe in assuming," Harry asked as he examined Eggsy's guard, looking for weaknesses, "that you have been talking to Merlin about me?”  He found one such weakness and sent a blow in that direction.

Eggsy blocked it- not as smoothly as a more experienced fighter might have, but well enough.  "Not lately."

“No?”

Eggsy traded a hit of his own.  “I just know what he was going for, yeah?  You told me once how you saw a lot of people self-sabotage.  I have too, and guess what?  The way you've been acting- that's what it looks like.”

“Is that right?” Harry tried a feint and another hit.

Eggsy preempted him and caught his wrist, overbalancing him again.  “Yeah.” 

Harry lay where he landed, winded, and looked up at Eggsy. 

Eggsy crouched at his side.  “You worry you can’t do this, so you focus on everything else that might trip you up- all so you don’t have to think that you might just... fail.”

Harry could say that he was more worried about his future with Eggsy than his future as Galahad- that for Eggsy having things unestablished between them might be less distracting, but for Harry it was the opposite- but that was only half the issue.  He wanted both.  He wanted to go home to Eggsy- and he also wanted to work beside him.  If he wanted that, he had to make this happen.  “You're right," Harry said.

Eggsy nodded and put a hand out again.

Harry took the hand, and let Eggsy pull him up without any tricks. 

After that, Harry turned something of a corner.  It had driven him, of course, to know that Eggsy's future depended on his- but imagining their future together took him the rest of the way. 

He worried- some times more than others- that it might turn out to be a fantasy only, but it was all he really had to hold on to when the work was grueling.  When he went to bed at night feeling stiffer and slower and older than he could have sworn he was only recently.  When he tossed and turned at night and hardly got any rest. 

Harry was used to his body being uncooperative after an injury- he wasn't used to having the same problem with his mind. 

He spent a lot of sleepless nights wandering the halls of HQ.  One such night, he found himself down at the firing range.  He wasn't sure what had brought him there- a dream of holding a gun with deadly precision, followed by the dismal reality of his still shaking hands, perhaps- but he supposed getting a little practice in with no one watching wouldn't hurt. 

Except that there was a light on down the way; it was the middle of the night, but someone was already there, practicing. 

Harry almost turned around, but he was curious.  Which of his fellow agents had taken a trip to the firing range so late, and why?  Self-doubt?  Lingering vestiges of another time zone?  Frustrations to pour into an unsuspecting paper target?

Harry peered in that direction and came to an abrupt halt.  It was Eggsy.  He looked ethereal in the dim light, but also dangerous with a gun in his hand.  

His form, Harry couldn't help but notice, was perfect.

Harry cleared his throat.  Eggsy had a silencer on his gun and wasn't using ear muffs.  Not best practice, but most of the knights could be accused of the same- Harry himself had argued many times that there was no reason to bother when they didn't get that protection in the field.  He heard Harry and glanced around, shoulders relaxing minutely when he saw who it was.  

"Can't sleep?" he asked.    

Harry stepped closer.  The light across Eggsy's face reminded him of the first time they met, under that streetlamp, and for a second he couldn't speak.  He nodded, then: "And you?  Merlin didn't think you needed much practice with marksmanship."

"I don't," Eggsy said.  "I just-"

"Couldn't sleep either?"

Eggsy's shrug suggested more than that, but Harry decided to let him be.  If he wanted to tell Harry what else was going on with him, he would in his own time. 

Harry said only: “Forgive me if the rules have changed, but aren’t the trainees meant to stay in the dormitories after light’s out?”

A sly smile dashed across Eggsy's face as he reloaded.  “If I ever get caught, sure, I guess so.”

Harry laughed.  Eggsy's mouth twisted as he looked at Harry sidelong.  Harry couldn't tell if the sadness in his eyes was a good sign or a bad one, and he stepped a little closer.  "Are you all right?"  He couldn't _not_ ask.

Eggsy shrugged again and Harry wondered if that would be the end of it.  Then, "Broke a record earlier tonight." 

Harry considered that.  He knew that Eggsy had been busy this evening- with more marksmanship, he remembered in a flash.  He wasn't surprised- Eggsy's skill was clear- but he wondered why Eggsy seemed to feel it was a bad thing.  

"My dad's," Eggsy elaborated.

"Ah.  He was..."  Harry hesitated.  "He was a good shot." 

Harry could still remember the light in Eggsy's eyes when Pellinore mentioned his father outside the police station.  He wondered how much Eggsy had been told since then.  He wanted to see that look on Eggsy's face again, wanted to put it there- but at the same time he wanted nothing less.  Speaking of Eggsy's father to him, after everything- after the way Harry had acted because of his guilt over Lee- just didn't feel right. 

He would, though, if Eggsy asked. 

"I'd rather we not talk about my dad," Eggsy said.  He unloaded his clip on the target without warning.

 _Ah_.  Harry noticed that every shot had landed dead center.  "That's your prerogative, of course." 

Eggsy's face contorted.  He put the gun down like it was burning his fingers.  "It's not- it's not that I- it'd just be weird, hearing about him from you, right?  It's weird that you knew him.  It isn't not-talk-to-each-other-for-three-months weird, but it's weird." 

"Yes," Harry said.  In hindsight, he felt very stupid about all of it.  But hindsight always was twenty-twenty. 

"You're supposed to say 'To be fair, I never meant for it to be three months' or something."

Harry supposed Eggsy was right.  If they were to keep up the banter, keep things easy between them, that was what Harry should have said.  And perhaps Harry was dancing too close to edge of things he had promised not to say, but...  "To be fair, I didn't."  He got closer, keeping his tone light.  "But you don't have to be fair to me all the time."

He could still see it in his mind's eye- the way Eggsy had looked while he fired his gun.  Eggsy had been right about Merlin's timing- Eggsy did often arrive at Harry's physical training sessions with tension to burn off.  But even when they were sparring, even when Eggsy was clearly frustrated, Harry had never felt like those frustrations were directed at him.  He did now. 

"It's all right if you're angry," he added softly.

"I don't wanna be," Eggsy replied, just as softly.

Harry understood not wanting that.  Harry was angry all the time now- mostly at himself, but still.  It wasn't very fun. 

And Harry didn't know as much about Eggsy's life with Dean Baker as he wished he could by now, but he remembered the way Dean had talked about Eggsy that time they spoke, and he remembered Eggsy's apprehension, so long ago, when Harry said they would have to stage a falling out.  It wouldn't have taken much for it to become ingrained in Eggsy that fights were an inherently evil thing, rather than a regrettable but sometimes unavoidable part of two people leaning to make their way through life side-by-side.  It wasn't the anger itself that was dangerous, just what a person did with it.  And there were some things Harry knew Eggsy would never do- and if Eggsy didn't, Harry would have to know it for both of them.    

To lighten the mood, he said, "And I don't want to be a walking disaster, but here we are."

Eggsy laughed.  It was a bit wet, but it sounded genuine.  It sounded like progress. however small.  He bumped his shoulder against Harry's.  "Yeah," he said.  "Here we are."  He loaded the gun again.  "Did you come down here to practice, or what?" 

"I suppose I did," Harry agreed.  He wasn't surprised when Eggsy pressed the gun into his hand.  He wasn't surprised when he centered himself and raised his arm- and found his hand shaking like the dickens either.

It did surprise him when Eggsy didn't back off.  Instead, he settled against Harry's back.  "Do you have flashbacks of the church?" Eggsy asked.  "Is that what's going on?"

Harry shook his head.  "I have dreams, sometimes.  But I don't remember them very well.  I don't... I've had worse regrets."  Failed missions here and there.  Lee.  Eggsy.  "I know what I did was beyond my control.  I suppose that's what bothers me most.  I don't like it when things are beyond my control."  He turned, looking at the side of Eggsy's head.  "It's one of the many reasons I can't blame you for being angry about what I did.  Keeping things from you.  Making unilateral decisions.  I'm not sure I could be here, now, if our positions were reversed."     

"Well."  Eggsy cleared his throat a couple of times.  Harry wondered if was comforting or just painful to be the better man.  "I'm here.  And if I can work on being mad at you, then I reckon you can too."

"I suppose so," Harry managed.  He felt like Eggsy had taken the breath right out of him.  He had told Eggsy that the crux of the matter was his loss of control- and followed it up with what seemed like appropriate and necessary contrition- but Eggsy had gotten to the real heart of it anyway. 

All of this was irrevocably tied up in guilt- over the people he had killed, over the people he had failed to save, and most of all over Eggsy- and that was as much a stumbling block as any loss of control.  Merlin was right- Harry was as comforted as he was threatened by having a decision taken out of his hands.  It made what happened in church easier, to know that it hadn't been his fault that he did those things.  It made this nightmarish training period easier, to know that he simply couldn't afford to fail.  It made being here with Eggsy now easier, to know that he didn't have to say the things he desperately needed to say because Eggsy needed him not to.  

"I was going to be a doctor," Harry said, suddenly. 

Eggsy stilled, frowning and looking up at him.  Harry almost regretted saying it, but he knew that if he didn't work this out now- with Eggsy- he never would.  

"I was going to be a doctor," Harry repeated.  "And the first time Kingsman put a gun in my hand, it shook then too.  You'll notice none of the trainee records are mine.  I was never bad enough to disqualify, but always close." 

The final test almost broke Harry, it really did.  But he had decided that he had come too far and sacrificed too much to fail.  He had decided that he didn't have a choice.  And what the final test really stood for- a silent promise between the organization and its agents that it would never ask the unthinkable without good reason- had meant so much to him.  Even as the years passed and Arthur proved over and over that it wasn't entirely true, Harry held onto it.  Harry couldn't tell Eggsy that, couldn't give him a preview into later tests even if they had changed, so he skipped over that part. 

"It took me a long time to point a gun and imagine some enemy on the other end and be steadied by it rather than the other way around," he said.  "To be certain that they deserved it.  But I killed civilians in that church.  And I'm angry at myself for that, and for so many other things."  Harry lifted his arm again, and again it was shaking.  "And I can't seem to trust my own..."  He dropped his arm.  Sometimes he could almost settle by imagining himself as the target, but it was hardly a healthy solution- or a long term one.  

Eggsy looked sorry, like he had anticipated most of this but hated it anyway.  "If you was in the field now, could you shoot?" 

"To protect someone _,_ I'm sure I could.  Otherwise..."

"Then that's gotta be enough for now," Eggsy said.  "Just don't think about what you're shooting.  Think about what you're saving."

Harry thought about Eggsy, warm against his back.  Eggsy who might be a Kingsman one day if Harry just worked through his shit.  Eggsy who almost certainly wouldn't be here now if he didn't intend to give Harry another chance someday.  He lifted his arm again and didn't think, just fired.

Eggsy whistled.  "You might make some records yet," he said.

They were direct hits, all of them.  "Thank you," Harry managed quietly.  He cleared his throat.  "You really should let me help you with something sometime," he said.  His 'lessons' with Eggsy might be needed, but they didn't seem like anywhere near enough, suddenly.

Eggsy laughed, pressing his face in between Harry's shoulder blades.  "Yeah, okay," he said.  "You can get the next one."  

*   *   *

The next one came sooner than expected.

They had had something of a scheduling mix-up; Harry supposed one was due.  Harry was giving Eggsy a tour of the seven course banquet- who to talk with and how, which utensils to use, that sort of thing- and Eggsy was restless in a way Harry had never seen before.

He looked like he was going to jump out of his own skin. 

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, setting down the plate he was holding.  He sat in the chair to Eggsy's right.

They had been working- such as it was work, for Harry- for some time already, and Harry was confident that Eggsy could bluff his way through a table manners test if he needed to.  They could take a break.  

Harry let his fingers pluck at Eggsy's elbow.  Before the firing range, they hadn't had much physical contact outside of sparring.  Since the firing range, Harry had felt more able to touch Eggsy casually, and Eggsy in turn seemed to welcome it.  

Eggsy shrugged, mouth twisting.  Then he said, "D'you know what the trainees are working on next?"

Harry shook his head.

"NLP training.  That's like... seduction stuff, right?"

"Yes." 

Eggsy's teeth worried at his lower lip, a gesture that still left Harry a trifle light-headed.  He tried to ignore it.  Obviously something was troubling Eggsy- and he had promised to help when Eggsy needed it.  "Not sure I'm looking forward to that," he finally said.  "I... I wasn't really planning to do that kind of thing anymore.  And... well.  You said Bond girls weren't a thing." 

"Ah," Harry said, letting out a long breath.  "They aren't.  Most missions aren't planned out in any detail, which means you solve most problems at your discretion.  You'll never _have_ to seduce your way out of a situation if you don't wish to- and any missions that require it outright can be refused."   

Eggsy nodded jerkily.  "Then why're we doing it?"  

"Just to make sure it's a skill in your repertoire, I suppose," Harry said.  "If it's an issue for you, you could talk to Merlin.  There isn't an official NLP test, as such- just classes.  If that's also a problem, Merlin might pull you out to work with me some more.  I know he's done that in the past." 

"Wouldn't mind lectures, I guess."  Eggsy honestly looked amused by the idea.  "And Merlin kind of suggested that he'd have us work together on it- which don't make no sense to me."

"Did he indeed?" Harry murmured.  He wondered, belatedly, if Merlin wasn't actually trying his hand at matchmaking.  Harry could have told him he was both too early and too late.  He also wondered if that was what Eggsy was actually apprehensive about.  "I understand your confusion- it's not as if you need practice."

"Hell yeah I don't."  Eggsy seemed to relax further, rather than the other way around.  He took a sip of his water, lifting a brow at Harry over the rim.  Harry got the sense that Eggsy was flirting with him again.  So- likely it wasn't the thought of NLP work with Harry that troubled him.

NLP in general, then.  Harry could hardly blame him.  Whether it was because of Harry, because he was just tired of the work, or some of both, Eggsy had wanted to quit his former job.  The thought that he might have to turn around and do it again for Kingsman must have been jarring. 

"But if you don't have a whole lot to teach me," Eggsy was saying, "and I _know_ I don't have nothing to teach you, what's the point?"

Harry blinked. 

“We both know you can blow me out of the water pretty much any time you want to.”

Harry didn't know how Eggsy could believe that if he had ever looked himself in the mirror, but he didn't argue.  He only laughed softly and said, “Yes, well.  My charms aren't what they were.”  His fingertips brushed unthinkingly across his scarred temple. 

Eggsy made a noise low in his throat and caught Harry's hand.  “Your charms are fine, Harry,” he said.   

He was so close, suddenly.  Close enough for Harry to press their foreheads together.  Close enough for Harry to kiss him. 

The period when Harry would have felt free to do so had been too short to excuse how firmly the idea took hold of him- but having had a glimpse of everything they could be together it was so _hard_ not to lean in.

Harry let out a breath, his chest tightening as Eggsy pressed even closer.  “You didn’t want to talk about this, remember?"  Harry hadn't realized it at the time, but they had been on the cusp of something since the firing range.  They hadn't talked about it then, but they had gotten close and they were getting closer.  "You didn't want to talk about us."

Eggsy’s eyes glinted.  “Who’s talking, Harry?”

So Eggsy would allow a kiss, and even kiss him back.  And once Harry started kissing Eggsy, he didn't know what he might do.  Drag Eggsy back to his rooms?  Throw him over this table? 

Harry lifted his free hand and touched Eggsy’s face and jaw, swallowing heavily.  He remembered in remarkable detail exactly what Eggsy had said to him once.  About not wanting Harry to think about anything but him, and not wanting to think about anything but Harry.  Eggsy still seemed edgy, worried about his future.  Maybe he hoped Harry could help take his mind off things, and Harry certainly could.  Only-

Only it wouldn't be right.  Harry had promised to wait and he didn't intend to break that promise- and he also didn't intend to touch Eggsy again (not in that way) until he had told Eggsy exactly what he meant to him.  Over and over, and in great detail.  So Harry backed off gently, saying, "I'm sure we'll find out what's in store soon."    

And Eggsy looked a little disappointed, but perhaps also a little relieved.  "Yeah," he said, and smiled shyly.  "Guess so." 

He was still gripping Harry's hand, and they were still fairly close together.  Harry opened his mouth to say... something.  He wasn't sure what- something that would make Eggsy understand his hesitation if he didn't already, perhaps. 

Whatever it was never came out, because his glasses beeped.  It was the only warning Harry got before Merlin's voice came through his glasses: "That doesn't look like standard banquet protocol."  

Harry scowled.

Eggsy flicked his eyes toward the glasses, his question clear.  

Harry mouthed, "Merlin," and then said aloud, "We were actually speculating as to the nature of our next... activity."

"That's good," Merlin said.  "Because it's what I'm calling about.  I'm sure you recall me telling you that Kingsman has been very busy with the results of V-Day.”

"Yes," Harry said. 

“Then you shouldn’t be surprised to hear that we have found ourselves shorthanded of late.  Normally I wouldn’t send you when you haven’t been fully cleared for fieldwork yet- but this shouldn’t be too difficult and it is in your skill-set.  And I wouldn’t send Eggsy when he's still a candidate- but he did an excellent job on V-Day and you’ve together worked before.  So...”

“So where exactly do you want to send us?” Harry asked slowly.  He couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of working with Eggsy again- but this development was too unexpected for him to properly appreciate it.  

"It's a gala in the city.  Don't worry- it won't end with you alone like Valentine's did."

 _No_ , Harry thought.  _Not least because Eggsy will be there with me_.  "And what exactly do you need from us there?"

"I'm sending a tech to you with building plans and further details, but the bare essentials are these: the host is a paranoid woman who keeps almost no digital records.  One of you needs to get into her office and have a look the books she's keeping.  Just recording them with your glasses should be sufficient.  Get in, get out, quite easy.  How you... find your way to the office is at your discretion."

Later, after the tech had arrived and Harry had looked at Merlin's file, he speculated that Merlin likely did have NLP in mind.  He might say that how they got in was at their discretion, but Merlin's extensive notes on the target's sexual preferences- and habit of trysts in the room in question- made his expectations very clear.  Harry had yet to stop scowling.  Eggsy had said that he didn't want to do anything like this, and frankly Harry didn't want someone else touching Eggsy if it could be avoided.  Harry would say it was lucky, then, that Merlin's reconnaissance suggested it was him she would most like the look of- except that he didn't want someone else touching him either.

And- looking at the plans- Harry believed there was another way.  

Harry glanced up at Eggsy, who was frowning at a file of his own.  "It looks to me like she doesn't always lock the door," he said.  "Her paranoia seems more technological than personal."

"Think we could sneak into her office without getting an invitation?"

"I don't see why not.  And if we were caught and needed a cover her office is the closest room to the stairs.  It's feasible that anyone looking to... catch a moment alone might find themselves ducking inside."   

"You wanna do the old fake-out make-out?" Eggsy asked.  He looked like he couldn't decide whether he was amused or annoyed or a bit of both. 

Harry didn't want to, no.  He wanted to wait and kiss Eggsy after they had talked, just like he told himself a moment ago that he would.  He wanted to get this mission done without resorting to nonsense.  But he did think it would work if necessary, and hopefully be a better solution than seducing a stranger.  "If necessary," Harry said.  "Yes.  But if you aren't comfortable with us going as a couple-"

"I am."  Eggsy's expression was difficult to read.

"Well, there's nothing in our covers that suggests we couldn't pull it off.  A married couple might even better, if Merlin could be persuaded to-"

"Give us another of these?" Eggsy asked.  He reached under his shirt, and Harry flinched- expecting, for some reason, to finally see the medal he had given Eggsy around his neck.  But that would make no sense- and indeed this was a chain, not a ribbon, with a ring around it, not a K.   

It was _the_ ring.  The one Eggsy wore for him the last time they went to a gala together.  The one whose twin was still in Harry's desk drawer where he left it months ago. 

Eggsy kept it.  Wore it- perhaps often.  Which meant that-

Harry swallowed heavily.  He couldn't afford to speculate too much on what it meant. "No need," he said.  "I would just have to go home and get mine."

Eggsy's smile was bittersweet, but- Harry thought- also pleased.  

*   *   *

The mission began promisingly enough.  Harry's suit for the evening was Pellinore's work, and though it was a little disappointing not to be wearing a suit of Eggsy's Harry had to admit it looked good.  Changing in the Kingsman fitting rooms with Eggsy nearby brought back memories of easier times.  Getting Eggsy out of that trainee's uniform and into a suit was wonderful.  Not as wonderful as it would have been to have him spread out naked on a bed after, but wonderful nevertheless. 

Harry was- perhaps overly- optimistic.  He and Eggsy had done good work before, and there was no reason to think they wouldn't do it again.  True, things were in a strange place between them, but they had managed to put it aside this long.  

He only started to have doubts after they arrived at the gala.

The building had an old fashioned ballroom, not unlike the one at Kingsman's manor.  It was brightly lit by multiple chandeliers and wall-sconces, and the exits were numerous and easy to see.  It wasn't a particularly foreboding setting, in other words, but Harry was jumpy nevertheless.  

He looked on a passing waiter carrying a tray full of champagne glasses with suspicion.  From what he remembered of Merlin's outlines for both Lancelot trials, he only sent his trainees out to a party once- when he actually intended to have them kidnapped and threatened.  The loyalty test.  It was too early to do that to Eggsy, though, and it made no sense with the others absent- and _Harry's_ loyalties could hardly be in doubt.  But he was up to something, Harry was sure of it.

He took a glass of champagne and only pretended to drink from it, resolving to keep a careful eye out.       

"What's the matter?" Eggsy asked, setting aside his own champagne.  Harry noticed that he hadn't so much as sipped from it- taking his cues from Harry, Harry supposed.  He was so good at all this. 

"It's probably nothing," Harry said.  It _was_ probably nothing. 

Eggsy only looked more suspicious.  He put a hand on Harry's arm.  "Don't think it is," he said.  "You're jumpy."

Harry let out a breath.  "It's nothing I'm supposed to tell you."  He laid his hand over Eggsy's lightly.  "I'm not worried that our host is poisoning her guests, if that's what you're thinking.  I'm sure that part of this assignment is as straightforward as advertised."

Eggsy's eyes narrowed.  He seemed to have latched onto the _it's nothing I'm supposed to tell you_ part.  "Ain't we meant to be partners?"

"For tonight only- not I wouldn't prefer it another way."  Eggsy stilled and flushed a little pink.  Harry leaned in and kissed his warm cheek, just as he had the last time they attended an event like this. 

And just as he had the last time they attended an event like this, Harry had asked Eggsy what he was comfortable with beforehand.  Eggsy had agreed to anything; no teasing, but no stipulations either.  There was little, Harry had to admit, that was unfamiliar between them at this point.  But even so, Harry was still keenly aware of the heat of Eggsy on his arm, how soft and pliant Eggsy went when Harry kissed him or pulled him close. 

Harry stayed pressed up against him.  Harry's glasses weren't transmitting, but they could still be overheard if he wasn't careful.  “Some things supersede that.  Or perhaps... are necessary in aid of it.”

"The trials?" Eggsy's voice was as soft as Harry's. 

"Hmm."

"There's something that happens in the trials that's a bit like this," Eggsy said, clearly thinking aloud.  "And you're not sure if it's about to happen or not."

“Hmm,” Harry said again.

Eggsy went still, eyes fixed to something over Harry's shoulder.  That was all the warning Harry got before Eggsy's hand turned underneath his and gripped it tightly.  "Dance with me," he said.

"Certainly," Harry replied as Eggsy expertly tugged him out onto the floor.  

"I see our target," Eggsy said.  "At your eight- no, your seven o'clock."

"Is she approaching?"

Eggsy shook his head, looking at Harry's face more than at her now that he had zeroed in on her location.  "She's just... in transit.  Thought you ought to know."

"Thank you," Harry said.  Eggsy was leading, his hands light and just faintly clammy around Harry's fingers and against his waist.  Harry saw no need to change that.  "What do you suggest next?"  

Eggsy hummed thoughtfully.  "She looks like she's introducing herself to people, mingling.  Once she gets ensconced, that's when we should move."

"Sounds reasonable."

It did, but Eggsy was frowning.  "Thing is, this would be easier if we could keep eyes on her somehow.  Should one of us stay out here, or keep watch in the hall?"

“That wasn’t the plan,” Harry reminded him.  Once Harry had told it to Merlin, Merlin had become oddly attached to the idea- and modified certain things accordingly.  “Merlin wants us both in the room.”    

"The search'll go faster that way," Eggsy agreed.  "But it ain't as safe.  People get awkward when they walk in on two people kissing- especially two people like us- but that don't mean she won't get suspicious.  We'll have to have everything back just perfect before we get out of there, and we won't have much time to do it in."

Harry nodded and waited to see if Eggsy would continue.  He knew Merlin had decided to keep them together for a reason.  Perhaps to give Eggsy exactly this very intellectual exercise, perhaps for another reason.  Perhaps to increase their chances of having to do that fake-out make-out after all.

Harry froze, briefly, as he considered that.  He had thought Merlin might be matchmaking before, but when he started to suspect that there was more to this gala than met the eye, it hadn't occurred to him that that might be all Merlin was doing.  Forcing their hands. 

He couldn't decide if he was grateful or angry.  

"What's the matter now?" Eggsy asked.

"I just had a thought," Harry said.  He had technically had two, but only one of them was really relevant to the current situation.  He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a cigarette case.

"They do something after all, don't they?" Eggsy said sharply. 

Harry laughed.  "I assure you, the one I gave you was indeed perfectly mundane.  Still, I put a few techs to work on something interesting, and it should come in handy here."

The cigarette case was jeweled- a little overly gaudy for Harry's taste, but the usefulness of the device made up for that in Harry's opinion.  He removed one of the tiny gems and held it up to the light.  

"It's still a work in progress.  I wanted all of them to function as trackers."  Harry had thought it apt, for an accessory he had once given Eggsy to function as a tracker, given all the times he had thought about putting one on him.  "For now they aren't that sophisticated.  It just works as a proximity sensor.  Plant one of the gems, and when it gets within about fifty meters of the case again, it will alert you.  Should give us some warning."

"Yeah," Eggsy said.  "Good idea."  Still, he just stared at the gem once Harry had handed it to him and slipped the case into his pocket.

"Something wrong?" 

Eggsy swallowed.  "I'm not-" he coughed a little.  "Shouldn't you do it?"

Harry knew he wasn't completely wrong- Harry had the most field experience, after all.  But he wasn't right, either; Eggsy had done this sort of thing, too- if under very difference circumstances.  Harry had seen it with his own eyes.  And though their skill-sets might be different, Harry knew they were equals in every way that mattered.  "We both know you are much better equipped for this than I am," Harry said.

Eggsy met his eyes uncertainly.

"I mean it, Eggsy," Harry said.  "You can do this.  I have no doubt."

He could see how much it meant to Eggsy to hear him say so.  "Yeah," he said.  "Yeah, okay."

Harry smiled and gave him another kiss on the cheek.  One for the road.   

Eggsy's fingers curled into fists around his jacket lapels- keeping him close for just a moment before disengaging, and heading toward the buffet table.   

It was beautiful work- little surprise there.  Eggsy's collision with the mark was a delicate thing, barely there.  Just a brush of shoulders and an apology- quickly made, and with a smile as though he and the mark were old friends.  She smiled back at him like that was true, and the whole incident was as easily forgotten as it was begun.  

"Good work, Eggsy," Harry murmured when he returned with a few snacks from the buffet table. 

Eggsy smiled a sweet, private little smile.

They munched on the food until the mark was drawn into what looked like it would be a long conversation, and then they settled close together and made the journey upstairs arm in arm.

Harry let Eggsy go only when they arrived at the office.  He tried the door handle.  "Locked.  We'll have to really sell it if she catches us."  Harry was already going through his inventory of lock-picks in his mind, finally settling on and withdrawing the best choice.

"We could just tell her the truth," Eggsy said.  "I'm light-fingered."  He produced a key.  

Harry wondered where the mark had been keeping it, that Eggsy picked it up so easily while planting the gem.  He decided not to ask.

"Wanna do the honors?" Eggsy asked.  He pressed the key into Harry's palm.  "Feels like I'm robbing myself," he said, tone casual but with a touch of heat.  "Missing out on you picking a lock."

"I'll be sure to lock myself out one day and give you a treat," Harry said, matching Eggsy's tone.

He knew that he was taking things for granted- that Eggsy flirted when he was nervous and it didn't mean all would go well when they talked.  There were still too many ways Harry could ruin everything, as he had proven amply before.  Eggsy didn't seem to mind it though. 

"After you," Harry said when he opened the door.  He touched Eggsy's arm.  "We'll make it work if we have to."

Eggsy nodded solemnly, but in the end they didn't have to.  They found the mark's books quickly, and looking through them and then slipping back out the way they came was the work of a few minutes only.   

Just when Harry let himself believe that they might have made a clean getaway, there was a quiet beep and Eggsy flattened himself against the wall.

Harry had never heard the sound the cigarette case made before, but he hardly needed to.  It was obvious what was happening when Eggsy gripped him by the jacket lapels and hauled him into a deep kiss.  

For a second, Harry's eyes stayed open and all he could do was stare helplessly into Eggsy's likewise open eyes.  He didn't look like kissing Harry was any hardship for him; his eyes held the same light they had when he said _who's talking_.  It was enough to make Harry want to drag him back to the mark's office and do exactly what she was meant to think they intended to do now.    

And then Harry's eyes fluttered shut.  His brain seemed to short out entirely.  Eggsy's mouth was as soft and minty sweet as ever.  It took Harry back to the beginning, and all he wanted to do was kiss Eggsy forever.  This was when everything made sense between them.  This was when all the complications felt like window-dressing. 

It was an illusion, Harry knew, but one he wanted to hold on to for as long as possible.      

A throat was cleared.  "Uh," a woman's voice said.  "Pardon me?"

Eggsy broke away from Harry first, but slow- as if it took a lot out of him to let Harry go.  Whether that was genuine or for her benefit- or perhaps a bit of both- Harry didn't know.  His face was cherry red, though- that couldn't be all performance.  "Sorry," he said with an airy laugh.  "We were just-" 

The mark's face was flushed too.  "It's quite all right," she said.  Her eyes kept darting between Eggsy- breathless and mussed-looking up against the wall- and Harry- pinning him there like he never intended to let him up.  If anything, she looked like she was enjoying the view.  

 _Well then_.  Harry summoned his voice from somewhere.  "We'll-" he moved to tug Eggsy back downstairs, just clumsily enough to give Eggsy an excuse to brush up against her, removing the gem and returning her key.

Her eyes widened at the contact.  "No, _I'll_ -" she said, and dashed in that direction herself.

Just like that she gone.  It was easily as effective as the movies suggested, though Harry wouldn't want to do it with anyone but Eggsy.  Eggsy who was still close enough to share his breath.  Who whispered, "You okay?" against Harry's lips. 

That was not the word Harry would have chosen to describe himself- but they had gotten the job done, and they were both all right, so... "I suppose I am.  You?"  Harry felt Eggsy's nod.  "Then let's get out of here."  

*   *   *

After the gala, everything changed and nothing did at the same time. 

Merlin handed the books they had gotten a look at over to Lancelot, who took down multiple burgeoning criminal organizations with their help; it was all Kingsman could talk about for weeks.  The number of candidates had been cut in half by then, and they continued to dwindle.  Harry's lessons with Eggsy went on, though he had little left to teach him.  Harry's body grew more cooperative.  Sparring with Eggsy became easier in the physical sense- and more difficult in just about every other sense.  Harry didn't know if Eggsy was doing it on purpose, but he seemed to take every opportunity to press his body flush against Harry's.  And whether he was doing it on purpose or not it was the greatest exercise in self-control Harry thought that he had ever experienced.  

He had never wanted so much and been so unable to act on it before.  It was maddening.

That was what Harry was thinking at the moment, as Eggsy rolled off him.  Harry won more often than not, by then- but he was all-too-frequently distracted by glimpses of Eggsy's skin, by the heat and smell of him.  Sometimes it took its toll.   

“Again?” he asked, hoping his breathlessness would sound like exertion, and not the effort it took not to pull Eggsy down, press him into the mat, and do obscene things to him.

“Sorry,” Eggsy said, breathless too.  He reached out a hand to pull Harry up.  “I’ve got… stuff.”

Harry lifted an eyebrow as Eggsy righted him.  “Stuff?”

“Uh, yeah.”  Eggsy strode over to the bench, pressing a towel to his neck and getting a drink of water.  “You know the candidates are leaving for one of the tests that'll take us away from HQ, right?”

“Ah, yes,” Harry said.  _Of course_.  As the number of candidates shrank, the tests got less like tests and more like mini-missions.  They were getting close to the end now, very close.  By the time Eggsy got back, Merlin would already be preparing the sky-diving test.  That one almost always thinned the herd considerably. 

“Anyway, Merlin wants me to head to the shop and pick up some tech.  Normally a candidate couldn’t do that, but since I was a tailor first-”

“One who figured out that the Kingsman are spies to boot-” Harry filled in. 

“I’m allowed.”  Eggsy was grinning as he nodded toward the door.  “Wanna walk me there?”

“Certainly,” Harry agreed, following him out of the gym.  He had to admit that he was curious about Eggsy's first trip into the room where the Kingsman kept most accessories- especially because it made him realize something he should have long ago.  "You knew about the pens, didn't you?  Back when Arthur tried to kill you?"  Harry still shuddered at the thought, even after so long.

Eggsy's grin widened.  “Oh yeah.  Like I told you, Arthur wasn’t sure what to do with me at first- but Pellinore just couldn’t wait to show off all the cool toys.”

Right.  Pellinore.  “I see,” Harry said, in a tone he found himself entirely unable to modify.  Back before everything that happened, he had never really let himself believe that Eggsy could be part of Kingsman- but if he had ever thought that he could... he would have wanted to be the one who showed all that to Eggsy.

Eggsy came to an abrupt stop, staring at Harry.  “You jealous?” he asked. 

Harry considered his answer for only a second.  Eggsy might not be willing to talk about their future yet- they might not _have_ a future- but he wasn’t going to lie to Eggsy anymore, even by omission.  “Yes.” 

Eggsy’s face colored faintly and his pupils dilated. 

Harry smiled.  Whatever that discussion brought when they finally had it, he knew at least that Eggsy still wanted him.  Not just as a distraction or a release, or when the adrenaline was flowing.  Eggsy wanted _him_. 

“You can be the one to show off the cool toys next time,” Eggsy said.

“Good,” Harry replied.

Eggsy’s flush only deepened at the gravel in his throat.

The walk to the lift was completed in charged silence.  When they finally arrived, Harry couldn’t help noticing that Eggsy had settled very close to him indeed. 

“Harry?” Eggsy asked as the lift started to move.

“Yes?”

“Any advice for this next test?"  He looked down at his feet instead of at Harry.  "Like, I know that you can’t tell me what’s gonna happen, or anything, I was just hoping-”

If Harry recalled correctly, this particular test forced the candidates to find their own way back to HQ without knowing where they had been dropped in the first place.  But he thought his answer to that question would be the same with any test: “Don’t get too caught up in the things you’ve leaned.”

Eggsy looked up, obviously surprised.  

“You’ve come far in your work with me and in the trials in general- of course you have.  But what truly sets you apart is that you’re different from the other candidates.  Only a year ago things might have been different, but luckily for you- luckily for all of us- Merlin and Kay and the others want things to change around here.  And you’re smart, before anything else.  Trust your instincts.  You don’t need my advice, not really.”

His eyes still fractionally wider than usual, Eggsy let out a breath.  “Okay.”

“When are you leaving?” Harry asked, holding his gaze.

“Tomorrow.”

“Then this could be the last time I see you before you get back.”  Harry let his hand come rest on Eggsy's arm.  They were almost to the shop.  "Good luck."

The lift came to a stop, but for a moment Eggsy didn't move.  "Thanks," he said, his voice thicker than usual.  He headed toward the dressing room door, only turning around at the last moment.  "See you around, yeah?" 

“Eggsy,” Harry said, stopping him just as his hand came to rest on the doorknob.

Eggsy turned back around to look at Harry as if it had never occurred to him to do otherwise. 

Even in that ugly trainee's uniform, he looked so lovely.  Harry wanted to cross the distance between them and pull him into a kiss so much it hurt.

Harry was sure that he had had the right of it before, to avoid kissing Eggsy until they stood on more level ground.  Most of the time he was sure that Eggsy wanted to try again, and that the wait would be worth it in the end.  But sometimes, in the dead of night when he wasn't sleeping well, Harry wondered if he was wrong, and he knew that giving Eggsy up would never be easy- but it would be much harder once Harry had had a taste of him again.

But it was too late for that now, already.  That line had been crossed, at the gala.  Harry didn’t want to resist anymore. 

He imagined kissing Eggsy so vividly that when- suddenly- Eggsy’s lips were on his Harry was sure he must have instigated it.  But no, he realized a moment later- Eggsy was the one who kissed him, and he kept kissing him, fingers tight on Harry’s jacket lapels as he smashed their mouths together.  Harry was briefly motionless and confused- and then he closed his fingers around Eggsy’s wrist and tugged him closer. 

Eggsy pressed Harry’s back up against the mirror.  His body still fit to Harry’s like they were made for each other.  He still kissed Harry like Harry was the only man in the world he wanted to kiss ever again. 

As abruptly as he had initiated it, Eggsy ended the kiss.  He righted his clothing with breathless care.  “Right,” he said, half stumbling out the door.  “Right.”

Harry slumped back against the mirror.  It took him a few minutes to recover and make himself presentable.

By the time he stepped out into the shop, Eggsy was nowhere to be seen.  Harry decided he might as well head home.  It would be something to do other than sit alone in his rooms and think about that kiss.   

He ran into Pellinore in the doorway and caught him by the arm.  “What are you doing here?”  The last Harry had heard, Pellinore wasn't even supposed to be in London. 

“Just… looking in,” Pellinore said vaguely.

Harry had a feeling he knew who Pellinore was 'looking in' on- him, Eggsy, or both of them.  “I hear you showed him the armory,” he said.  Pellinore would know exactly which 'him' Harry was talking about. 

“And what a pleasure it was too,” Pellinore said, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.  “Let me tell you something, my boy- if he wasn’t so clearly hung up on you I would have tried my luck with him already.”

“Well, that makes _me_ feel less like a dirty old man, thank you.”

Pellinore nodded regally and headed into the shop.  His voice followed Harry through the door: “Glad I could help.”

Harry had to admit, as the afternoon light hit his face and the door shut behind him, that it was much easier not to be jealous when he could still feel the weight of Eggsy’s lips on his. 

*   *   *

Eggsy came back from the training mission victorious, as did a few of the others.  Harry didn't see him again before Merlin took them out sky-diving, and he didn't see him after, either.  Before he knew it, those agents who still had candidates in play were being collected to oversee the loyalty test.  Harry knew he wasn't the only one hoping that there would only be two of them left afterwards, but there were three. 

So.  Eggsy would have twenty-four hours with his mentor, and Harry probably wouldn't see him again until it was over- unless all three candidates passed that test as well.  Harry hoped that wouldn't be the case.

He didn't want to watch from a distance as what happened with Lee happened again, not even if it ended happily for everyone.  

Harry wasn't yet cleared to fully re-enter the field, but by then even Merlin agreed that was just a formality.  Their new Arthur would soon sign off accordingly.  Harry was rather in limbo while he was waiting, though, and in those last few days he spent more time in his own home than he had in ages.

Between that and how busy Eggsy must have been, Harry wasn't surprised that they hadn't seen much of each other.  He thought, a few times, about having a drink or seven and texting Eggsy things he shouldn't, but he didn't.  He knew he should let Eggsy be, especially since he suspected that Eggsy was- at least casually- avoiding him.

So he was surprised to open his door the night before the final test and find Eggsy waiting on the other side. 

"Aren't you meant to be with Lancelot?" Harry asked, a little stupidly. 

"I have permission."

For a long moment, Harry just regarded Eggsy.  He didn't look like he was in any trouble, at least.  “Should I be worried about what you told her in order to get permission?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Harry fought a smile, but it broke free in spite of him.  "Well," he said, stepping aside.  "You'd better come in then."

Eggsy smiled back, just a little shyly, and did as Harry asked.

Harry headed toward the kitchen straightaway, beckoning Eggsy inside.  "Can I get you anything?" he asked.  "Tea, perhaps?"

Eggsy looked around Harry's home like it was another planet.  He was dressed in civilian clothes- a garish yellow and black ensemble Harry imagined he had selected for clubbing purposes- and his hands were thrust deep in his pockets.  "I’d actually go for something stronger, if that’s possible.”

"All right," Harry said easily.  He found a couple of glasses and a bottle of whiskey, trying not to think about why Eggsy needed a drink.  “Have a seat,” he called.  By the time he got back to the sitting room, Eggsy was perched on the edge of one of the chairs like he didn't think he belonged in it.  Harry handed him a glass and sat down opposite him.  "How are... things?" he asked lamely.

Eggsy shrugged one shoulder.  "Loyalty test wasn't so bad," he said.  He seemed amused, more than anything, as he looked back on it.  "You did spill the beans a little, you know."

"Did I?"

"No NLP test, you said.  So when Merlin sent us after that girl I knew something was up.  When I tasted the champagne, I knew it was that trick you was looking out for at the party, so I played it out.”

"Well," Harry said.  "You still did well."

Eggsy looked doubtful.  Harry had hoped that his success in the trials thus far and at the gala would have given him much needed confidence.  Perhaps not.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" Harry asked. 

"I wasn't."  Eggsy looked frustrated.  He took a sip of his drink and then slumped back in his chair, frowning.  “But then I thought how I ain’t ever finished anything in my life.  I quit gymnastics, and the marines-”

“You did that to be with your family.”

"I know.  But the reasons don't change the fact that I never... I never had anything that was really mine.  How I am supposed to believe I can have-" he stopped, shaking his head as if to clear it.  "Never mind."

"How are you supposed to believe you can have what?"

"It's nothing," Eggsy murmured.  He stared at the opposite wall for what felt like forever, then he set his jaw and looked Harry dead in the eye.  "I ain't going back to how things were."

"Given everything you did for Kingsman even before you were a candidate, there is no way that will happen.  You'll work for Kingsman, one way or another."  Harry let himself settle a little closer, his knee brushing up against Eggsy's.  "Unless you weren't talking about the job."

Eggsy let out a long breath.  "I was and I wasn't, I guess."

He looked as vulnerable as Harry had ever seen him.  Softly, Harry asked again, "How are you supposed to believe you can have what, Eggsy?" 

"You."  Eggsy swallowed heavily.  "How I am supposed to believe I can have you?"

Harry was sure, most of the time, that Eggsy still wanted him- but of course he had his doubts.  He wasn't exactly surprised that Eggsy did too.  Eggsy had asked to put off this conversation, and Harry had thought it only right to let him carry that decision through to the end, as Eggsy had let him carry most of his own very stupid decisions.  Possibly that had been just another in a long line of mistakes.  "You can, you know," Harry said.  "If you've changed your mind about talking, that is."   

Eggsy sighed.  "I guess I wouldn't be here if I hadn't.  I have to know if you-"

Harry knelt in front of Eggsy.  He hadn't practiced this, hadn't thought anywhere near as much about it as he should have, but he was done hesitating, done wasting time.  He would probably never be very good at soul baring, but he intended to make a start. 

Eggsy said, "You don't have to-"

"I do have to say this," Harry said.  "Let me- please?"

Eggsy nodded, his eyes almost comically wide. 

"I love you," Harry said.  "I've known I loved you since I watched you making toast in that miserable little flat, but I was falling long before that.  I only slept the night with you in my arms a few times, but I’ve woke up reaching for you ever since.  Almost all the time I've known you, I’ve thought that you had to know that I was crazy for you, that I always have been.  But I was also afraid.  And when I found a reason to run, I did.  And it is, with some healthy competition, the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"Is-" Eggsy's tongue flicked out over his lips.  "Is that all, or is there more?"

"A little.  But it could wait for input from you.  I know I have a lot to make up for in that regard."

Eggsy bit his lip and rocked back in his seat, regarding Harry thoughtfully.  "You really did what you did just because you was scared?"

"I think that was a big part of it, yes.  The heart of it, even.  I'm not... used to dealing with the unfamiliar, and what I've felt for you and wanted from you has been anything but familiar."  Harry swallowed heavily.  He knew Eggsy would let him leave it at that, which was why he couldn’t.  “But I was a lot of other things too.”  He couldn’t let those things come between them, not ever again.  “From the moment I decided that none of them were worth losing you over, I've tried to put them aside and for the most part I have.  But they're still in me, and you need to know that.  You need to know how guilty I felt for not doing more for you."   

“You did exactly what I wanted you to do, Harry.  I'm the one who never called.  I’m the one who told you I was safe over and over.  You gotta know it was my choice.  And you gotta know that if you think your big mistake was trusting me, and listening to me, and respecting my wishes we’re gonna have _words_.”  

"Oh, I know."  Harry felt like laughing and crying at once as he looked at the sharp set of Eggsy's jaw and the fierce light in his eyes.  "I _know_.  I knew it was stupid then and I know it's stupid now.  It’s arrogant and unfair and idiotic, but it’s how I felt for so long.  And I knew it was nothing to do with you, but-"

“It _is_ to do with me,” Eggsy protested.  “It’s to do with me- and with you apparently believing that my life is your fault.”

“Isn’t it, though?"  Harry had thought most of this was behind him, but clearly it wasn't.  "Isn’t it?” 

“I guess maybe it is a little," Eggsy admitted.  "But isn’t it also mine for not calling you all the times I could have?  For being so proud and so unwilling to ask for help?”

“No,” Harry said, reaching up and taking Eggsy's face in both hands.  “No, it’s not.  I can’t pretend I didn’t think it early on, but I know better now.  You were doing the best you could, what happened isn’t-”

“Is it my mum’s, then?”

Eggsy's eyes were flashing, and Harry couldn't have been more surprised if Eggsy had slapped him.  “Of course not!”

Harry tried to let him go, but Eggsy put his hands over Harry's, holding him there, relentless.  "Is it my dad’s, then?" he asked.  "He’s the one who had to be so noble and jump on a grenade, and I can’t even be mad at him for it ‘cos if it hadn’t been him it mighta been you.  He saw the situation and he did what he thought was right- that's all there was to it.”

Harry should have anticipated that Eggsy would do some investigating, learn what happened the day his father died.  “He was a brave man.”

“I know,” Eggsy said softly.  His hands dropped into his lap.  “And you gotta let him go, 'cos he was just doing his best, like you said.  And so was I, and so was my mum- and so were you."

Harry's hands, left to themselves, hung there for a moment, lightly brushing across Eggsy's cheeks and lips as he spoke. 

"That’s what you were doing when you got on with your life never thinking for a second that we wouldn’t call on you if we needed you.  And it’s what you were doing when we met and you gave me the space I needed to be my own person.  I never wanted for you to meddle in my life and you didn’t.  Did things happen that wouldn’t have if you and me and my mum and my dad made different choices?  Yeah.  Did some of them suck?  Yeah.  But life goes on, and the self-flagellation has gotta stop at some point.”

“Self-flagellation?” Harry repeated, startled enough that his hands finally dropped as well. 

“Borrowed that from Pellinore, but you get my point.  I know you did meddle a little, there at the end.  I know you threatened Dean.  And I know you sent Pellinore to give me that job as a tailor.  But I also know you didn't get me here _now_ in any way except how I'd want you to get me anywhere- by my side every step of the way." 

"That's what I want too," Harry said.  "And I can't promise that I'll never panic and do something stupid ever again.  This is new ground for me.  But I can promise that I will talk to you, instead of keeping silent.  And I can promise that now- and always- I will tell you anything you want to know."  

"I wanna know what you want from me."  That didn't sound very good, but Eggsy was almost smiling, so it didn't dry Harry's hopes up completely- quite the opposite, in fact.

He said, "I want you to have a good life.  I want you to be happy.  I want you to be free.  Free of people like Walker and Dean and even me.  I don’t care what you do or who you are, not anymore.  All I care about- even if it takes you far away from me, even if you never come back- is that you be in a place where I can tell you how much I want to be with you and know that if you agree it's only because you want it as much as I do.  A place where you can believe that you are the best thing that ever happened to me.  And that whether I've lost your trust or not, you always will be."  Harry looked down, laughing quietly.  "But I don't suspect you've done all this just to walk away now."

"Fucking right," Eggsy whispered.  "Why do you think I stayed, even when I was so mad at you I could hardly think?  Even after that fight we had, I came back.  I was hoping we still had a chance.  When Merlin told me you’d gone into the field, let me see what you were up to... Jesus, Harry.  If Valentine had shot _me_ in the face that day it woulda hurt less.”

"Oh, Eggsy," Harry whispered.  He reached out and touched Eggsy's knee lightly. 

Eggsy found his fingers and held onto them.  "As I much as I wanted to mean it when I said I didn't want you in my life if you didn't feel the same way, I pretty much didn't. I'd always be hoping I could find a way to win you, to-"

"You did, my darling.  A long time ago, now, you did.”  And any amount of awkwardness Harry felt in his confession was worth the way Eggsy lit up when he _believed_ it, even if Harry himself didn't feel much like smiling.  "I'm sorry for making you doubt me.  I'm sorry for all the times I almost left you that way."

Eggsy's smile faded a little.  "You can say that again."  His eyes were still fond, though, and his grip on Harry's fingers only tightened. 

"If it's any consolation, I did make that recording for you on the way to Kentucky."

Eggsy's face contorted as he imagined, with this new information, what Harry must have said on the recording he had never listened to.  "It's not any consolation.  It woulda sucked."

"Granted," Harry agreed.  "But if you did want to see it now..."

Eggsy shook his head.  "Maybe someday, but nah.  Not now."

"Very well."  He had told Eggsy most of the important parts.  Everything else he could show him in time- because Eggsy intended to give him someday after all.  "And to be fair-"

"Thought you said I didn't have to be fair to you."  Eggsy's eyes were dancing.

"Perhaps you'd better," Harry said, "since I'm clearly not on any kind of pedestal now, if indeed I ever was."  Eggsy frowned, like he was wondering if that was something Harry had truly worried about, but Harry didn't think it was worth fussing over now.  "And _to be fair_ , you did hear what I said to Merlin in the church.  Didn't you know that-"

Eggsy pulled a face.  "I heard it.  But-"  

“Deathbed confessions aren’t exactly set in stone?”

“Deathbed confessions aren’t things you expect to live with,” Eggsy said.  “That’s how they _work_.  It was only when I was feeling really, really shitty that I ever thought you never loved me at all.  Mostly I just thought that maybe you didn’t love me enough to make it work after things got tough.  Deathbed confessions don’t help a whole lot with that, do they?”  

“I suppose not.”  Harry hung his head. 

Eggsy lifted one hand to flick Harry's cheek lightly.  "You gotta know I always wanted to try, though.  I made myself a lotta promises while we was waiting for you to wake up.  Mainly that I'd have you in my life- as my friend, if nothing else.  This spy gig is dangerous.  You could get shot again.  If I pass, _I_ could get shot.  And even if we both walked away, something like V-Day could happen again and maybe Kingsman wouldn't be able to stop it.  I figured life was too short for me to even try to live without you- not when that was the last thing I actually wanted.”

“So...” Harry hesitated.  “Why didn’t you try?  Why didn’t you let me tell you-”

"So many reasons.  Too many.  I really did think it'd be a distraction, Harry- I swear.  And I was scared. There were still those times when I really was afraid you'd say you never loved me.  And I figured I could get whether I'd even be a Kingsman sorted, and see if we could make the whole friends thing work at the same time.  But that's not really why I put you off, Harry.  I may have convinced myself I was doing it so I could keep believing we were gonna live happily ever after and shit even if we weren't- but I was wrong."

"Why, then?"

"I think I actually needed to hold on to the idea that you were gonna break things off."

Harry winced. 

Eggsy’s face contorted.  “Not because I wanted you to.  I never wanted that.  But... you're not the only one who did something stupid because they were looking for an out.  It was the trials, for me, more than us, but... I think I was using you as an excuse to bail if things got tough.  Honestly, Harry- if Merlin hadn’t tied my success to yours like he did I might not have made it this far.  It’s why I acted so weird when you confronted me about it.  I thought you knew I’d fuck up and cost you your job.  When I realized you meant it other way around, I knew I had to keep trying, but I still thought about quitting all the time.  And I told myself it was because I didn't know how I could work with you and not be with you- but it wasn't really about you, I just didn't realize that."

"But then you started thinking about how you'd never finished anything," Harry said, thinking aloud.  "And you did."

Eggsy nodded and slumped back in his seat again.  "Jesus, Harry.  I can't believe I actually gave you a whole speech about self-sabotaging and never saw that I coulda been talking about myself.”  He sighed.  "Anyway, when I explained it to Roxy- including the part where I had reason to think that you maybe never loved me- I couldn’t really tell her why I needed to know tonight after waiting so long- but I guess what I did say made some kinda sense to her, because she let me go to you.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Me too," Eggsy said.  He lifted their joined hands and held Harry's palm to his cheek.  “I missed you so much, Harry.”

“You’ve seen me almost every day.”

“You know what I mean.”

Harry lifted himself up a little so he could press his forehead against Eggsy’s.  “I missed you too,” he admitted.  He felt Eggsy’s huff of breath across his face.  For a while he stayed there, just enjoying being close to Eggsy again.  But the real world eventually intruded and he spoke: “It’s getting late.”

“Rox said I could stay the night.”

“Did she indeed?” Harry asked, taking in Eggsy’s pleased smirk with amusement.  He gave himself a moment to imagine how that conversation had gone for Eggsy and laughed a little.  “Well then- are you hungry?”

Eggsy held his eyes, all bright and fierce and beautiful.  “Not for food.”

“Oh,” Harry managed.

He wasn't sure which of them moved first.  They were so close that it hardly took anything for their lips to touch, and when they did they crashed together like it had been years rather than days since the last time they kissed each other.  Eggsy couldn’t seem to stop moving, kissing Harry deep and then peppering burning kisses around his mouth and then widening his net and kissing all over his face.  Harry noticed Eggsy’s mouth moving against his skin and realized it was Eggsy breathing, “Harry, Harry, Harry,” over and over again. 

Harry wasn’t very well positioned for this.  He slipped his hand into Eggsy’s hair, moving back to cradle his skull and sealing their mouths together again.  At the same time he pulled himself up, resting his hip against the side of the chair Eggsy was sitting in and praying that they didn’t overbalance completely.  They didn’t, and he was rewarded when Eggsy opened up for him like a flower.

Harry thought he would prefer it the other way around- Eggsy up there bending to kiss _him_ \- but he couldn’t deny that this had its charms.  He still had one hand free to drag down Eggsy’s chest, and Eggsy keened and arched into his touch so beautifully.

“Fuck,” Eggsy moaned against Harry’s mouth.  “Fuck, Harry.  Need you.”

“You have me.”

Eggsy gripped his shirt front.  “More.  Please.”

Harry decided to let Eggsy draw him closer and push his luck with the chair further.  He brought a leg up and rested his knee on the seat cushion.  His forehead dug into the back of the chair and Eggsy stretched up to meet his mouth.  Harry let his hand stray from the back of Eggsy’s head to his throat, running his knuckles across smooth skin and feeling Eggsy shudder against him.  With his other hand he gripped Eggsy’s hip and dragged him forward until his leg was wedged between Eggsy’s thighs. 

Eggsy groaned into Harry’s lips, and it wasn't difficult to tell why.  He was so very hard.  The moment he had something to rub against his hips jerked sharply, and once he started moving he couldn't seem to stop. 

“I have you, beautiful boy,” Harry promised.  He hauled Eggsy towards his chest, taking more of his weight.  Eggsy’s mouth slipped from his lips to his jaw, his throat, and then his collarbone.  “I have you and I’m not letting you go again, not for anything.  You’ll have to drive me away.”

The words came out of Harry's mouth without his permission, and for all they were true he wasn't very proud of them, or what they said about him.  He would have winced if he wasn't entirely occupied kissing Eggsy’s temple, his forehead, his hair.  But Eggsy whined and clung to Harry, his arms tight around his neck, and it had always been like that, hadn’t it?  In the moments when Harry was most sure that Eggsy was going to turn away from him- that he _should_ \- Eggsy always surprised him.  Eggsy ground against him, hips bucking as he bit Harry’s name into his neck and- unbelievably- came just like that. 

He liked it.  He _liked_ it and Harry loved him. Christ, but Harry loved him.

“Sorry,” Eggsy murmured when he could talk.  He pressed kisses to Harry’s chest through his shirt and sounded about as embarrassed as Harry had ever heard him. 

“Hush,” Harry said, kissing the side of his head.

Eggsy looked up at him, blushing.  “I just… I haven’t… not since- not since _you_.”

Harry had been relatively sure that Eggsy hadn't been working since the last time they were together- but he certainly hadn’t assumed that he'd been celibate.  He was startled- but not unpleasantly so.  Not at all.  He kissed Eggsy again.  He could hardly believe, even now, that Eggsy was there with him.  “I want you in my bed.  So very much.”

Eggsy groaned, catching his lips in a kiss that was almost all teeth.  “Please.  Harry.  Want you.  Want whatever you want.”

Harry drew away from him with an effort and extended a hand.  Eggsy took it, and Harry pulled him up.  He rested his other hand on Eggsy’s hip, considering his options.  “I want... Eggsy, do you think you could fuck me tonight?"

Eggsy kissed him hard, all wide eyes and hungry lips.  " _Yes_ , Harry.  Jesus."

Harry didn't wait for more.  He tugged Eggsy toward the stairs.  He stripped off Eggsy's jacket in the hall and his t-shirt on the staircase.  His hands were on Eggsy's belt buckle when he stopped short, frozen by the light playing across the chain around Eggsy's neck- and the ring still strung around it.  Harry kissed him deeply and dropped the belt somewhere on the landing. 

He was still working one-handed on the zip of Eggsy's damp jeans when they tumbled onto the bed.  He touched Eggsy's bare chest with the other hand. 

Eggsy was more muscular than he had been the last time, thanks to all their training- but his skin was as smooth and warm as ever, and he panted and swore just as beautifully. 

"Fuck- you bastard-” Eggsy bit out.  “You did this last time.”

“Did what?” Harry asked.

Eggsy hooked a leg around Harry, flipping them over.  Harry could have fought him, if the show of strength had bothered him- but it hadn't.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  “Got me into bed without showing a bit of skin,” Eggsy growled.  He pinned Harry's wrists above his head. 

"An overstatement, surely," Harry said, though it wasn't. 

“ _Harry_.”  Eggsy loosened his grip fractionally, but otherwise he didn’t move.  “Now, if you don’t want me to undress you for a reason...”

"No," Harry told him.  "It wasn't intentional."  Did he perhaps undress his partners so efficiently because he preferred to avoid the vulnerability of being completely naked?  Possibly- but if so it was an old habit.  Harry would let Eggsy undress him, of course he would. 

Eggsy smirked and rolled his eyes, but he was clearly relieved.  “I know, I know- you’re just that good at this.  So are you gonna let me have a turn or do I have to tie you up?”

 Harry quirked a brow.  “Does that idea interest you?” he asked. 

Eggsy’s eyes went very dark very quickly.  His tongue darted out over his lips.  “I- I don’t know,” he said.  With anyone else, Harry would think he was lying- that his reaction just then was clearer than words could ever be.  But this was Eggsy, and it was also possible that Eggsy didn’t want to tie him up at all- that the trust implicit in the offer was what Eggsy was really reacting to, nothing more.  “Just…”  Eggsy swallowed.  “Just hold still for me for a while, okay?”

"Anything for you," Harry said.  He meant it.  He had never meant anything more in his life. 

Eggsy's expression only intensified.  He licked his lips and reached out, stripping off Harry's cardigan.  Harry sat up a little to help him, but otherwise he kept obediently still. 

His shirt went next, and it went slowly.  Eggsy took his time with each button, holding Harry's eyes.  When he finally peeled it off and tossed it aside he frowned at the undershirt beneath- but then he softened, staring at something with a rapt look on his face. 

Harry followed his gaze, and saw the scar from when he had been shot more than a year ago and stitched the wound himself.  From when he and Eggsy met.

He had a fondness for that scar- but judging from Eggsy's expression that fondness ran deeper still in him.  

Eggsy made a noise low in his throat and bent, pressing his lips to the scar.  Harry shuddered, feeling his own breath hitch as Eggsy kissed him there and then drew back, running his hand up Harry’s arm.  Harry had never known a single touch to be so reverent.  “I remember,” Eggsy murmured.  “I remember walking in and seeing you dressed like this.”

“I thought you were going to run for the hills when you saw me bleeding.”

Eggsy laughed.  “I’d be lying if I said I didn't freak out a little.  But I was a lot more worried about you than about myself.  And I...”

“What?”

Lifting his head, Eggsy brushed his lips over Harry’s.  “Didn’t you know?” he asked between kisses.  “That I wanted you?  From the very first?”

“I couldn’t be sure.”

"I’d been attracted customers before,” Eggsy said, plucking at Harry’s undershirt until it came untucked and then gently pulling it over Harry's head.  “But I never had one turn me down like that once we were alone.  And I never met anyone like you.”  Eggsy ran his hands over Harry chest, eyes hooded and serious.  “I’m thinking there’s nobody like you anywhere.”

“You could be right,” Harry murmured as Eggsy pressed him back down onto the bed.  There was certainly no one luckier.

Eggsy’s fingers went to the fastenings of Harry's trousers, and Harry lifted his hips to let Eggsy strip them off.  The same went for what was underneath, and once he was completely naked Eggsy looked at him like he was a feast.  That alone was intense enough- and then Eggsy touched him.  Harry had never been handled so carefully before.

It all ran together a bit- Eggsy’s hands smoothing over every plane of skin, every scar and imperfection, and Eggsy's mouth following along behind, hot and slick and gentle.  

But then, once he had kissed down to Harry's stomach, Eggsy seemed a little at a loss.  "May I?" Harry asked, meaning to go for the bedside table and retrieve the lube he kept in there.  Remind Eggsy what the goal of the evening was.     

Eggsy's eyes heated when he realized that Harry was asking for permission to move.  "Yeah," he said, voice cracking.

It was enough to make Harry's intentions fly out of his head for a moment.  He brought both hands up to Eggsy's face and dragged Eggsy to him, kissing him hungrily. 

Eventually, though, he broke the kiss and stretched out, fishing around in the drawer until he found what he was looking for.

He handed Eggsy the bottle.  "Would you...  Would you like a condom as well?"  Harry licked his lips, hesitating.  "I'm sure you noticed how aggressively Merlin had the candidates tested, and he does the same for the agents."

Eggsy swallowed.  "What're you saying?"  It sounded like he knew.

"I'm saying I'm clean and I know you are too.  And it's your choice, but- but I would like it if you..."

"I've never done that before," Eggsy said.  Harry couldn't tell if that was a yes or no until Eggsy added, "C'mere."  And Harry did, closing the drawer without taking anything else out of it.  

"Go slow," Harry instructed between kisses.  “It’s been... quite a while since I’ve been on this side of the equation.”

Eggsy's tongue darted out across his lips.  “Like I was gonna do anything else.”

Harry couldn’t help the affectionate smile that spread across his face.

“God,” Eggsy said, leaning up to kiss him.  “I’m so gone on you.”

“I’m glad,” Harry replied.  He kept his voice dry, but he hoped Eggsy knew how very much he meant it.

Eggsy did, clearly.  He beamed at Harry.  His eyes were glittering as he poured some lube into his hand and then moved, settling between Harry’s legs when Harry spread them for him.  “Now,” Eggsy said.  “Let's see how you like...”  Without ceremony, he swallowed Harry’s cock. 

Harry bit back a curse, though only barely.  Eggsy was _very_ good at that- little surprise there. 

As he sucked at Harry's cockhead, Eggsy teased Harry’s hole with one finger.  As he eased it inside, he made a wet pass over Harry's slit with his tongue. 

Harry groaned.  He wasn’t sure which part was the most overwhelming- the heat of Eggsy’s mouth, the sight of his head bobbing up and down, the pleasure-pain of his fingers- first one, then two- sliding deep and wriggling. 

Eggsy made a pleased sound around Harry’s cock and did something with his throat that should have been illegal. 

Harry gripped his shoulder.  "Eggsy-" 

Eggsy swirled his tongue over Harry's slit again briefly and drew back.  The sight of his cock slipping from between those perfect lips wasn't one that Harry expected himself to forget any time soon.  “Yeah?” Eggsy asked.

Again- and probably not for the last time- Harry forgot what he was planning to do in favor of simply kissing Eggsy.  He could taste himself on Eggsy’s tongue.  “I’m not going to last like this,” Harry said when he finally broke away. 

He was all right when his primary concern was making Eggsy feel good- but with the focus on his own pleasure like this... Harry felt like he was going fly to pieces at any second.  Even before the church he had found that lack of control alarming.  And now... Harry was awed by how much he wanted Eggsy to take him apart, how much he trusted Eggsy to put him back together right. 

Harry wasn't sure he could explain all that.  “Just get inside me,” he said instead.

Eggsy's mouth quirked.  "Sure you can't take a little more?" he asked.  He added a third finger and worked them in and out of Harry slow.  A tease.  Having nothing to focus on but the way he was splayed out on Eggsy's fingers made the fullness of it even more incredible.  It felt so good, and Harry knew how much better it _could_ feel. 

Harry was ashamed of the whimpering sound he made- or he would have been, if Eggsy's eyes hadn't heated so beautifully. 

"Yeah, okay Harry," he said.  He withdrew his fingers carefully and kicked out of his jeans and boxers.  He was hard again already, but when he slicked himself and got into position Harry didn't have to tell him to go slow again.  Glaciers probably moved faster than he did.

He went so slowly, in fact, that Harry hardly realized he was pushing inside until he was already halfway there- and then it was overwhelming.  Harry could hardly breathe for how it felt to give way to Eggsy- so hot and intense.  Harry wanted Eggsy to stop and at the same time he wanted him to push all the way in right the fuck now, and it was perfect that Eggsy did neither.  He continued at the same crawling pace he had already set until, at last, he was completely buried.  Only then did he stop. 

Eggsy bent, kissing Harry’s chest.  His lips seemed to gravitate to Harry's shoulder, unfailingly finding the scar left by the bullet that brought them together.  Harry touched his hair and the back of his neck and noticed that his hands were trembling. 

“You can move,” Harry said- and his voice was trembling too.  "You _should_ move."

He groaned when Eggsy nodded and rolled his hips experimentally.  “I wanna find the-” Eggsy started, changing his angle with a little grunt.

“It’s okay,” Harry said.  It took him three tries to manage that much.  Prostate stimulation had its charms, but sometimes Harry found it a little _too_ intense- and he wasn't sure he could stand more intensity right now.  It was the feeling of penetration that he liked, that he had missed since the last time he let someone do this.  "This is what I wanted,” he said. 

He had almost forgotten just how intimate it was, having another person _inside him_ \- and the precise sensations, the edge of pain that melted into a deep ache like pain in most of its particulars and yet at the same time so unbelievably good... he had almost forgotten those too.  They seemed to heighten everything else.  The sparking slide of his cock between their bellies, certainly- but also the whisper of Eggsy’s hands across his skin and Eggsy’s hot mouth still following along behind them.  Everything was brighter and sharper- the smell of sweat and the sheen of it gathering on Eggsy’s forehead as he moved, the taste of Eggsy's lips when Harry managed to catch them in his own.  The sound of skin slapping against skin.  The blue-green-grey color of Eggsy’s eyes as they locked with his. 

Eggsy rocked into Harry, holding his gaze, and Harry could see that he wasn't the only one finding this nigh unbearable.  

“You feel-” Eggsy choked out, pressing in so slow and going so deep.  “You feel good.”

“Yes,” Harry murmured, wrapping his legs around Eggsy’s waist.  “I do.  I do.”  He certainly wasn’t wrong earlier when he told Eggsy that he wouldn’t last long.  He felt like he could shoot off at _anything_.  “Eggsy,” he managed, clutching at his back.  “Are you close?”

“Yeah.”  One of Eggsy's hands wrapped around Harry's cock and stroked it, kissing Harry messily while he made him come. 

Through the aftershocks Harry could still feel Eggsy moving inside him.  He thrust three more times, and though it was a struggle Harry kept his eyes open.  Eggsy was so beautiful when he came, and the way he felt as he spent himself inside Harry...

Harry collapsed back against the bedclothes, panting, and Eggsy followed along after him.  It was Harry who galvanized first, but Eggsy threw out a hand and stopped him. 

“Let me this time,” he said.

Harry nodded, and watched as Eggsy padded to the bathroom and came back with a damp cloth.  He cleaned Harry off about as reverently as Harry thought was humanly possible.  “Come here,” Harry murmured when Eggsy was finished.  Eggsy went into his arms easily, and again Harry noticed how perfectly he fit.  It was almost surreal.  “What was it you said?” Harry murmured.  “‘I’m so gone on you?’”

Eggsy hummed in sleepy agreement, dozing off against Harry’s chest. 

“Well, I am,” Harry told him, and did the same. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we're done. This chapter ended up having some light dom/sub and bondage going on (from the previous chapter, you can probably guess what it is). I’ve tweaked the warnings accordingly, but those who have been reading from the beginning should be aware that it’s there. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading this, I've really appreciated all your support!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Harry felt heat blossoming in his chest and caught Eggsy’s face in both hands, kissing him. It was hard to pull away after that, but eventually Harry did. “We should go downstairs and eat. And_ you _should put something on.”_
> 
>  _“You expect me to dress for dinner?” Eggsy asked. He stretched out across Harry’s bed in a way that made_ no _a terribly tempting option._
> 
> _“I’m not suggesting a black tie affair,” Harry replied. “But in case there’s splatter you ought to put something on. I shouldn’t like to send you back to Lancelot damaged.”_

Harry woke up to Eggsy kissing his chest again.

It was still dark, though it took Harry a few moments to become aware of even that much.  He threaded his fingers through Eggsy’s hair.

“I’m getting hungry,” Eggsy said without prompting. 

He sounded so very _young_ in that moment.  Harry waited to feel disgusted with himself, but he felt only lucky, so very lucky, to be here now.  “I sincerely hope you mean for food this time,” he said.

“Since you mention it-” Eggsy pressed a final kiss to Harry’s chest and slowly sat up- “I guess maybe I do.”

Harry lay there for another moment or two and then glanced over at the clock glowing on the bedside table.  Almost four in the morning.  Harry hadn’t slept so long or so well since what happened in the church- possibly since the last time he had Eggsy in his arms.  Harry felt heat blossoming in his chest and caught Eggsy’s face in both hands, kissing him.  It was hard to pull away after that, but eventually Harry did.  “We should go downstairs and eat.  And _you_ should put something on.”

“You expect me to dress for dinner?” Eggsy asked.  He stretched out across Harry’s bed in a way that made _no_ a terribly tempting option. 

“I’m not suggesting a black tie affair,” Harry replied.  “But in case there’s splatter you ought to put something on.  I shouldn’t like to send you back to Lancelot damaged.”

Eggsy snorted, but said, “Fair enough.”  He fished around the side of the bed, finding and pulling Harry’s shirt on.  He swam in it.  He rolled the cuffs up to his elbows- all that extra fabric looked absurd- and the hem hung low on his thighs.  Harry padded to his closet and tossed Eggsy a pair of pants.  Those at least would fit him reasonably well- if he didn’t move too much. 

He still looked faintly ridiculous, or at least he would have if his well-built legs and exposed forearms weren’t so gorgeous. 

Harry ducked into a t-shirt and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.  Then he stretched out a hand to Eggsy. 

“Come along,” he said.

Eggsy grinned and let Harry tug him downstairs. 

Eggsy slowed down when they reached the kitchen, looking around himself.  “This ain’t really how I pictured it, you know.”

“What did you picture?”

“Well, I didn’t expect such a nice kitchen, for one thing.  What d’you do with it?”

“Very little,” Harry admitted as he went through his cupboards, seeing what he had.  “The house came pre-furnished, and there’s a maid who keeps the place clean and stocks the kitchen.  I’ve never put it to much use, I admit.  I did think of you and try a little cooking or twice, though.” 

“How did it go?” Eggsy asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Badly,” Harry admitted.  “I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of it, not when I couldn’t share it with you.”

Eggsy made a soft sound and pulled Harry down for another kiss. 

Harry smiled against his mouth.  “It’s worth a try now though, isn’t it?”  He drew away from Eggsy to grab the cookbook he had bought and opened only a few times before the knowledge that Eggsy would never laughingly ask him what a cooking tool was for again had overwhelmed him completely.

Eggsy peered over Harry’s shoulder and pointed out a recipe that Harry had had his eye on ever since the first time he looked through it- a simple pasta sauce meant to be ready in the time it took to cook the pasta. 

Harry frowned at him, then at the clock over the stove.  “It’s closer to breakfast than dinner, you know.”

Eggsy snorted again.  “It’s still dark, and if it’s still dark it’s still night.  We can make dinner if we want to.”

“Impeccable logic.”

“Thank you.”  Eggsy flipped to the recipe in question and read it over, nodding.  “Seems like even you could pull this off- though you should probably let me do most of the work, just to be safe.”

Harry shoved him lightly and Eggsy laughed, going to the refrigerator for ingredients while Harry tracked down a pan.

It took him three tries to find the right one.  The first time, it was an honest mistake.  The second, Harry did it to make Eggsy laugh again.  The third, Harry knew that Eggsy was on to him, but he didn’t care. 

How could he, when no one had ever looked so fond of him in his life?

Eggsy started to lay ingredients out on the counter.  “I sort of hate you for having all this lying around all the time and never using it.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure the fridge stood empty while I was on missions.”  Harry set up the pot and turned on the burner to boil the water, adding a little salt.

“It’s not,” Eggsy told him.  “You’re lucky I love you so much.”  He kissed the back of Harry’s neck softly.

“Yes,” Harry said.  Eggsy could say that multiple times a day forever and it would still be true. 

Eggsy put Harry to work chopping herbs, and the quiet between them was comfortable, warm.  Harry loved the ease with which he and Eggsy moved around each other still.  He fancied it would be incredible when they were finally able to use it in the field instead of the training yard. 

He glanced Eggsy’s way and fought the urge to stare.  Eggsy looked so beautiful in the low light of the stove.  The chain around his neck had slipped out from underneath Harry’s shirt.  The ring gleamed.

As Harry passed over the herbs he had chopped, he caught the chain with light fingers.  “Do you always wear this?” he asked.   

Eggsy shook his head.  He stirred what he was cooking and set a timer for the pasta.  “Not really.  I did for a while though- to remind me of you.”

Harry’s gut turned over at the bittersweet look on Eggsy’s face.  At the thought of him keeping that ring close to his heart even when he thought Harry might never come back.   

“Once I was a candidate, the others sorta gave me shit about it.”  Harry straightened up and Eggsy laughed.  “It’s nothing I can’t handle- the worst ones are weeded out now anyway.  The only two left- they’ve actually got to be my friends, you know?  But they did needle me about being promised and shit and it… well, it didn’t feel so good when I wasn’t sure where I stood with you.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Eggsy’s waist and pressed his face into Eggsy’s shoulder.  “You could have known at any time,” he pointed out gently.  Lord knew, Harry understood what it was to make stupid decisions for what felt like the right reasons- only to discover later that not only were they wrong, they came from some other source entirely.  But it felt good to tease Eggsy about it a little- to know that he could. 

Eggsy elbowed him lightly.  “I know.  Guess it don’t matter now.”  He went back to cooking.  “Anyway, I only wear it once in a while.  It’s really just luck I had it on that day.”

“And you wore it tonight for effect, did you?”

“Something like that.”  Eggsy made a thoughtful noise and checked the timer.  “Put the colander in the sink, would you?”

Harry frowned, and Eggsy pointed, his smile so incredibly sweet.  Harry found the object in question, still pondering the chain around Eggsy’s neck.  What it was- and what it wasn’t.  “Why didn’t you ever wear it while we knew each other?” Harry asked.  “The medal, I mean.”

“I didn’t wear it while I was working because people tended to ask questions about it- questions that kinda ruined the mood.”

“I see.”  Harry helped him drain the pasta.   

“By the time we started renting that flat above the club it was just habit, so I didn’t wear it even though I knew we probably weren’t gonna fuck.  And when I got dressed in that suit for the gala… and I realized I’d never worn it at all when we were together… I got this idea that it’d be bad luck if I had it on, so I didn’t.”  Eggsy’s smile was wry.  “That’s what fucked everything up, isn’t it?”

“Eggsy,” Harry sighed.  He brought the drained pasta back to the stove and kissed Eggsy soundly.  “I think it’s very safe to say that _I_ am what fucked everything up.  I’d like to imagine that if I had been looking at you when I realized who you were, I would have talked to you instead of running like a coward.  I’d like to think we could have sorted it all out.  But whether it would have made things better or not if I saw that medal around your neck that night, my actions are on me, not you.”

“You weren’t that bad, Harry,” Eggsy protested.  “If it wasn’t for the coma and the getting shot in the head, I know we woulda-”

“Well, those things did happen.  I’d love it if you’d let me apologize for them.”  He had apologized earlier, of course- but it didn’t seem like he’d said it enough.  And Eggsy forgave so easily- and though Harry intended to take advantage of it to a certain extent, some things had to be done.    

Eggsy snorted out a tiny laugh.  “Yeah, okay.  As long as you don’t push me away again.”

“Never,” Harry promised.  He kissed the side of Eggsy’s face softly.  “I’m so very sorry.  And I love you.”

“Sap,” Eggsy said.  He was smiling as he poured the pasta into his sauce and tossed it.  “Love you too, yeah?”

“Yes,” Harry managed.  It didn’t seem like he’d _heard_ that enough.    

Eggsy produced a fork and twisted some pasta around it.  He blew on it gently and then he brought it Harry’s mouth.  “Taste.”

Harry opened, letting Eggsy feed him.  “It’s good,” he told him.  And it was- a wonderful balance of flavors or whatever people who understood these things normally said.  Harry hardly cared.  It could have been dreadful and he wouldn’t have cared as long as it was Eggsy giving it to him. 

Eggsy beamed.  “Good,” he said.  “Because- what was it you said?  ‘I’m not letting you go again, not for anything.  You’ll have to drive me away.’”

Harry kissed him, hard and deep, and when he drew away Eggsy’s eyes were wide and nearly black.

“Take me to bed,” he said.

Harry growled at him.  “Not until we’ve eaten this very fine dinner I won’t.”

Eggsy pouted but obeyed.  He poured the pasta into a single bowl and they ate leaning against the counter with their shoulders touching instead of at the table.  The light in Eggsy’s eyes suggested that he intended to still have his way as soon as possible, and he kept feeding bites to Harry. 

As he twirled the strands around the fork, as he lifted it to Harry’s lips, as he drew back again and repeated the process all over again, he never seemed to take his eyes off Harry.  Though he had never thought of spaghetti as a particularly sensual foodstuff, Harry had to admit that after only a few bites he wanted nothing more than to do as Eggsy asked and take him to bed. 

He decided to get some of his own back that way, but he was apparently nowhere near as good at pasta as Eggsy was because it flopped off the fork and hit Eggsy’s lips and chin more than the inside of his mouth. 

Harry gave good manners up as a bad job and raised a hand to catch it.  Eggsy seemed entirely satisfied with this turn of events and licked every last bit of sauce off Harry’s fingers.  

“Finger food next time,” Eggsy said.

Harry’s fingertips lingered on Eggsy lower lip- and he nodded, rapt, as Eggsy kissed the pad of his thumb. 

Eggsy fed him another bite.  “It’s your turn to explain, you know.”

Harry chewed and swallowed.  “Explain what?”  He couldn’t help it if he sounded a little wary.  Not of Eggsy- of himself.  He thought he had said most of what needed saying at this point.  What had he missed now?

“Would you really have quit for me?” Eggsy asked.

Harry blinked, a little surprised by the question.  He set his fork down.  “Yes, Eggsy.  I’m not in the habit of saying such things for effect, truly.  I still would, if you…”  Harry remembered something that Eggsy had said to him a long time ago.  “If you were worried the job and I couldn’t work something out.”

Eggsy’s eyes were wide. 

“You were…” Harry hesitated.  “You were thinking of us back when you said that, weren’t you?  Thinking of us… being together?”

“Yeah, I was,” Eggsy said finally. “I wanted to be somebody you could come home to so much.  But you know what I wanted way more than that?  To be somebody you worked with too.  I just… never thought I could until recently.”

“I wanted that too.”

Eggsy grinned, but he still looked a tiny bit uncertain.  “Did you really think there was any chance I stopped loving you?”

Harry shrugged and tried the pasta again.  “Most of the time I was sure you were at least still attracted to me, but… well.  I didn’t really know what you’d seen in me in the first place, and I hated myself for how I behaved after I found out who you were.  I couldn’t think of any reason why you wouldn’t feel the same.”  He finally managed to get it from the fork to Eggsy’s mouth without too much trouble.  “I suppose I still wonder if you’re going to come to your senses and leave.”

Eggsy chewed and swallowed with all the warmth in the world in his eyes.  “Silly,” he said with authority.    

He tasted like butter and sage when Harry kissed him.  “Now,” Harry said.  “Let me take you to bed now.”

Eggsy glanced around the messy kitchen, his eyes glittering.  “But what about all this?”

Harry threw the leftover food into the refrigerator.  “The dishes can wait until morning.”

“But it _is_ morning,” Eggsy said.  

“If it’s dark it’s still night,” Harry reminded him.

“You make a good point,” Eggsy said, and laughed, and his smiling mouth felt so perfect when Harry kissed him again.  “All right then.  What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied.  He tugged Eggsy up the stairs.

They were both still laughing when they reached Harry’s bedroom.  Harry traced Eggsy’s grin with his lips.  He liked it more and more with every taste.

Eggsy broke the kiss to pull Harry’s t-shirt over his head and then let Harry catch his mouth again.  His hands slid over Harry’s biceps and across his back.  Harry reached between them, unbuttoning Eggsy’s shirt (or rather his shirt, his shirt on Eggsy, and didn’t Harry love _that_ thought) and his fingers fumbled a few times as Eggsy sucked on his tongue.

When Harry finally touched bare skin, Eggsy moaned.  He drew away suddenly, and his crooked grin was the only warning Harry got before he dropped to his knees, smoothly pulling Harry’s pants down with him.

“Good trick,” Harry murmured. 

Eggsy winked.  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he said, and Harry believed him.

With so little time to get worked up- and relatively close to the last time- Harry was only half hard.  Eggsy didn’t seem to mind.  He used the opportunity to get more of Harry into his mouth faster than he probably could have otherwise.  Eggsy sucked wetly, his tongue seeming to be everywhere at once, and the noise that he made when Harry got fully hard was practically inhuman. 

Eggsy’s mouth was soft and hot- and Harry leaned back in the doorway, letting Eggsy do as he liked with him for as long as he could bear.  At last he reached out, fingers winding carefully through Eggsy’s hair.  “You might want to stop,” he said, pleased by how even his voice sounded. 

Eggsy pulled off with a wet pop and pouted a little.  With his lips red and slick, he made one of the prettiest pictures Harry had ever seen.  “How come?”

“Otherwise, I’m going to come much sooner than you probably intend,” Harry said.  That time his voice cracked.

Eggsy looked delighted.  “Again?”  He nuzzled Harry’s cock.  “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

“Is it?” Harry asked. 

Eggsy seemed to consider for a moment, then he shook his head slowly.  He was still smirking, but the expression softened into something sweeter, more hesitant.  “There is something I want…” he started but never finished.

Harry tugged lightly on his hair.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Eggsy asked.

“It’s probably safe to say that I did- but may I ask what you mean specifically?”

Eggsy smile widened, but he still looked a bit uncertain.  “When you said I could tie you up.” 

Harry’s knee-jerk response was _yes, of course_ \- but he supposed Eggsy deserved him to at least think about it seriously before giving his answer.  Harry could remind Eggsy that he had had just about everything under the sun done to him at one point or another in his life- and while he didn’t necessarily love being immobilized he didn’t dislike it either.  With anyone else, he might have done just that.

But this was Eggsy, who despite being half Harry’s age could probably say the same.  His appreciation of how little _I don’t object_ could actually mean was probably vaster than that of the average person.

Eggsy seemed pleased that Harry was actually thinking about it- but Harry could still see an uncertain look in his eyes. 

Eggsy said, “I want you to know that it wouldn’t always be like this.  I loved it the first time.  I wanna do it again.  I wanna do everything with you.  I just- I need-” he broke off, looking frustrated. 

“I understand,” Harry said, because he did.  After everything that happened, of course Eggsy would need a physical reminder that Harry really was his.  And it wasn’t so odd that he might settle on this as his method.  After all the choices Harry had made for both of them, of course he wanted to take back control in some way.

And Harry- well, Harry had to consider that.  Especially after what happened in the church, it wouldn’t have been too odd if Harry didn’t want to surrender control.  And as much as Harry wished Eggsy hadn’t had to see that, he had, and therefore understood why it gave Harry reason to hesitate. 

But it turned out that the idea of giving up control willingly this time- and putting himself entirely in Eggsy’s hands- was actually very appealing.  Harry wouldn’t want it to always be that way either, but right then it sounded just about perfect. 

“I meant it,” Harry said at last.

Eggsy beamed. 

Harry cupped his cheek with a light hand and then pushed off the wall, heading into the bedroom.  “I don’t exactly have the equipment for it,” he remarked.  “But…”  He went into his closet and produced two ties.  He leaned against the closet doorway with them dangling from his hands.  “What do you think?” he asked. 

Eggsy’s tongued flickered out over his lips.  “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.”  He swallowed heavily.  “A lot.”

Harry smiled.  “I thought it might be like that.”

He climbed onto the bed and Eggsy stripped off his pants and followed, kneeling at Harry’s side.  One of the many things Eggsy had learned during the trials (a lesson that had come in handy once or twice for Harry in his time) was how to tie a colleague’s hands- for whatever reason he might need to- in a such way that he could work himself free without too much difficulty.  That was how he bound Harry- and not tightly either.  The ties were just a whisper of silk at Harry’s wrists.  Symbolic, more than anything.

“All right?” Eggsy asked.

“Fine,” Harry said. 

“And you’ll say if it isn’t?”  Eggsy looked very serious- and he gave an exaggerated scowl when Harry just nodded his answer at first. 

“Yes,” Harry said.  “I absolutely will.” 

Eggsy smiled and bent, pressing a kiss to Harry’s stomach. 

“I suppose,” Harry started after a moment of silence, “that you have some sort of plan?”

Eggsy rested his chin on Harry’s stomach and gave him a hard look- but he didn’t tell Harry to be quiet either. 

Right then Harry decided that he would be quiet when asked- but not _until_ he was asked.

Eggsy didn’t seem to mind, not really.  His eyes were shining so bright.  “Yes,” he said.  “As a matter of fact I do.  Would you like to hear about it?”

“Please,” Harry hummed.  He liked this.  He felt… well, he felt like he would have anyway, most likely.  As though he had given himself over, completely and forever.

“I’m gonna make you feel good,” Eggsy said, kissing Harry’s stomach again.  “Well- I’m gonna make both of us feel good, but _you_ aren’t gonna come until I say you can.”

“Don’t I recall you once making some very rude implications about my parents’ marital status when I waited for you tell me that?”

Eggsy’s mouth quirked and a flush rode high on his cheeks, but his voice didn’t waver.  “That was then,” he said.  “This is now.  And now you don’t get to come until after I do.  But you’re gonna tell me when you can’t take it no more, all right?” 

There was something faintly reproving in his eyes, like he knew Harry was thinking of treating it like a competition.  He wasn’t wrong about that- but Harry was sure that Eggsy could win if he set his mind to it.  “I’ll tell you,” Harry promised. 

Eggsy’s smile was slow and sweet.  He crawled up and kissed Harry on the mouth, bracing his hands on either side of Harry’s head. 

Eventually Eggsy lifted one of those hands and brought it up to cradle Harry’s jaw.  With just a little prompting, Harry opened his mouth and let Eggsy lick inside. 

He was so very talented with that tongue.  Harry expected this to be just the first of many reminders.   

He wasn’t wrong.

Eggsy had mapped out Harry’s body with great care and detail the night before- and it was obvious as he kissed down Harry's chest that he remembered every single thing he had learned.  Everywhere Harry had always liked to be touched, and everywhere he hadn’t known- until Eggsy’s exhaustive exploration- did anything for him. 

The warm, wet drag of Eggsy’s mouth was unbelievably sweet, playing over the scar tissue littering Harry’s torso, sucking at his nipples, and nipping at his hipbones. 

“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you are?” Eggsy asked.  “God.  Wanted you so fucking much.”

He didn’t torment Harry long- or maybe that was exactly what he did. When his mouth found Harry’s cock again and Harry remembered the rules he had set, Harry thought the torment was actually only beginning.

It didn’t take long for Harry’s body to remember just how close to the edge he had been only a few minutes earlier.  It didn’t take much longer for Eggsy to bring him closer still. 

He started by just pulling the tip of Harry’s cock into his mouth and sucking at it relentlessly.  It was wet, sloppy, prefect.  Spit dripped down Harry’s length.  Eggsy slid his tongue along the side, getting him wetter still.  The air was cool against him, and then the inside of Eggsy’s mouth when he swallowed Harry down again- swallowed him deep- was so very hot in comparison. 

Eggsy pulled Harry into his throat, swallowing around him.  Harry’s hips bucked.  Eggsy didn’t stop him; it was Harry’s job to stop himself. 

“Eggsy,” Harry said when he couldn’t anymore.  He genuinely didn’t know if he had been quiet all this time or not.

If not, Eggsy heard the difference in his voice at last and pulled off.  “Yeah,” he said, voice beautifully rough and ragged.  He drew back and retrieved the lube from the bedside table. 

Harry thought about asking what he intended to do with that, but there was a quiet intensity in the air that Harry found himself reluctant to shatter- and anyway, he thought he already knew. 

When Eggsy slicked his fingers and- getting up on his knees- reached behind himself, Harry knew that the torture was only just beginning after all. 

Eggsy had chosen his placement well.  It would take so little for him to turn around and give Harry a better- agonizing- view of exactly what he was doing, opening himself up with those soft and gorgeous fingers of his.  It was hardly better for Harry to see only the curve of his body and the arch of his back- and the pleasure playing across his face. 

It was agonizing all right- to look and not be able to touch.  It would be fitting, perhaps, if it was this and not Eggsy’s mouth on him that broke Harry- but it wouldn’t be this.  Harry wouldn’t let it be. 

So he just lay there and watched.  He wouldn’t let the desire to be the one touching Eggsy, the one pressing fingers inside him and opening him up, be what made him beg- but he wouldn’t take his eyes off of Eggsy either.  The view might be painful, but it was also incredibly beautiful.  Harry didn’t intend to miss a second of it.  

Just as Harry’s eyes were fixed to Eggsy, Eggsy’s eyes were fixed to Harry.  He saw every spasm of Harry’s hands and every twitch of Harry’s cock. And Harry let him see, knowing he must make a picture. 

When he considered himself ready, Eggsy withdrew his fingers.  The soft sigh that he gave made Harry itch to touch him even more.

Suddenly, Eggsy moved.  He straddled Harry’s hips, and leaned down to kiss him.  His lips didn’t seal quite properly and at first it was just a wet, tantalizing brush of tongue.  Harry chased Eggsy’s mouth as far as his position would allow, and Eggsy eventually let Harry catch him and kiss him properly. 

Harry could feel that smile still curving Eggsy’s lips beautifully upwards.  Harry wasn’t sure he had ever liked feeling something under his mouth quite as much as that- and Eggsy certainly supplied a great deal of competition for himself on that score.  Harry couldn’t wait to have Eggsy arrayed out in front of him again, but for now this was everything Harry hadn’t realized he needed.

Still smirking, Eggsy drew back a little. 

He reached behind himself and stroked Harry’s cock a few times with his slick fingers before lifting himself up and getting into position.  One disadvantage of his comparatively smaller hands was that- his skill in this area notwithstanding- Eggsy simply couldn’t prepare himself quite as thoroughly as Harry could have in his position.

He took his time, though- lowering himself onto Harry’s cock with aching slowness until he was finally fully seated on Harry’s thighs. 

“All right?” Eggsy asked breathlessly when he finally went still. 

“All right?” Harry repeated.  _All right_ wasn’t quite the word that Harry would have used.  Being inside Eggsy was as perfect Harry remembered it being.  Hot and tight and wonderful. 

Eggsy bent and kissed him, slow and messy, and it was as though he was reading Harry’s mind when he murmured, “Feels so good,” against Harry’s lips. 

“Yes,” Harry murmured, chasing his mouth again. 

“Any time,” Eggsy told him, moving just a little on Harry’s cock.  “You can ask any time.”

“Don’t think I’m not tempted,” Harry said, his breath coming shallowly.  “But-”

“But?”

“But I don’t doubt for a moment that it will be worth the wait.”

Eggsy huffed out a laugh, rocking.  “Just for that,” he breathed against Harry’s neck before pressing a light kiss there, “you can move if you want.”

Harry pressed up into him, forming a counterpoint to the deep, even pace at which Eggsy rode him.  Something about it made it even harder to bear being unable to touch him, hold him, pull him close.  The drag on Harry’s cock every time Eggsy moved up and the sweet, tight peace whenever he slid home again… it was intoxicating but it still wasn’t quite enough. 

Eggsy kissed his lips a few more times and Harry managed to bury it in his mouth- but then Eggsy drew away again, sitting back. 

“Please,” Harry sighed.  “Please let me touch you.”

Eggsy’s smile was gentle as he sighed out, “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”  He bent, kissing Harry again.  For a few moments both of his hands cradled Harry’s face and then he reached out with one and then the other, beginning to undo the ties carefully.

Harry could have worked himself free once he had permission, but he wanted Eggsy to do it, wanted to not be able to touch him until he was good and ready to be touched. 

When each of Harry’s hands was free Eggsy rubbed his wrists gently and then let go.  Harry knew he had been right- so very right- that it was worth the wait.  His hands came to rest against Eggsy’s biceps- and the smoothness of his skin under Harry’s palms was the sweetest Harry had ever known.  Eggsy sighed against Harry’s neck, tightening around him.  He felt it too.

Harry dragged his hands up Eggsy’s arms and worked his way to Eggsy’s shoulders and then down his back.  Eggsy’s breath came labored.  He pressed clumsy kisses to Harry’s collarbone.  Harry kissed the side of his face in turn.    

He slid his hands down to cup the curve of Eggsy’s arsecheeks and squeeze lightly. 

Eggsy moaned softly and rocked against him.  He had been so still for so long that both of them gasped at the sensation. 

Pressing a final kiss to Harry’s collarbone, Eggsy sat back again, taking Harry deep.  Harry rested one hand on his hip and lifted the other to his face.  “Do you know that you’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen?”  Harry’s thumb passed over Eggsy’s mouth, pressing against his lower lip and slipping inside a little.

Eggsy groaned, his cock jumping, and beads of pre-come landed on Harry’s stomach. 

Harry dragged his hand down Eggsy’s jaw, his throat, his chest- and paused to let it rest over Eggsy’s heart.  It was hammering.  “Please,” Harry said again. 

He remembered the rules; he couldn’t come until after Eggsy did- and whenever Eggsy moved at all Harry felt like he was about to burst. 

More important than the rules, though, was the fact that Harry wanted to wait.  No matter how many times he watched Eggsy’s face as he came, Harry would always want more.  His fingers itched to wrap around Eggsy’s cock, to caress it, to bring him the relief he must have needed as much as Harry at that point. 

Eggsy took a breath, let it out slow, and then said, “Yes.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice.  He just barely scrapped his knuckles down Eggsy’s stomach on his way there.  It was electric when Harry’s fingers connected with Eggsy’s cock, when his thumb passed over the wetness gathering at the tip and used it to smooth the way as he worked down to Eggsy’s base and then back up to the head again. 

From the way Eggsy pushed back up against his hand, he was no less affected.  He threw his head back, barring a beautiful expanse of pale neck.  Harry devoured it with his eyes and never once stopped touching him.  Every move Eggsy made felt unbelievably good- but Harry was a lot more interested in watching the reactions that played across his body as Harry’s touch brought him closer to the edge.   

Harry coupled a long drag of his fingers along Eggsy’s cock with a deep thrust into him.

Eggsy breathed, “Harry,” and that was all it took.  He rocked into Harry’s grip once, twice, and come splattered all over Harry’s stomach. 

He collapsed against Harry’s chest, panting, and Harry held onto him, running gentle hands through his hair and across his back, kissing his temple and forehead. 

As he rallied, slowly, Eggsy traced patterns in his own come on Harry’s stomach.  “Now,” Eggsy murmured.  He tilted his head up, fixing Harry with a surprisingly fierce look.  “I want you to use me.”

Harry nodded. He slid one hand down to Eggsy’s hip and wrapped the other around his back and cradled his head.  Holding him tightly, Harry flipped them over so that he was lying on top of Eggsy and in between his spread legs. 

Eggsy wrapped them around Harry tightly, holding onto him with light fervor, murmuring _yes_ and _come for me_ in Harry’s ear. 

After only a few thrusts Harry did exactly that.  He buried his face in the crook of Eggsy’s neck, pressed deep, and came.

It took Harry longer than usual to come back to himself after that.  He found that Eggsy’s hands were stroking over his shoulders and that his own were running- shaking- through Eggsy’s hair still.  Harry pressed up, still-damp come sliding between them, and found Eggsy’s lips to give him a long, slow kiss.

When it was over Harry drew away again, slipping carefully out of Eggsy.  Eggsy slumped back against the pillow with a sigh.

Harry headed to the bathroom and got something to clean them both off with, taking his time about it when he returned to Eggsy's side.  If nothing else, what they just did had certainly taught Harry to truly savor being able to touch Eggsy at his leisure.  Every part of his soft skin felt so perfect under Harry’s hands. 

Harry rested against him briefly and gave him another kiss.  Eggsy opened under his lips without the slightest hesitation. 

Running careful fingers through Eggsy’s hair, Harry murmured, “Go back to sleep, my darling."  Eggsy obeyed, turning over under Harry’s hands.  Harry pressed up against him for a while, just listening as Eggsy’s breathing slowly evened out. 

Harry doubted he would get much more sleep that night, having become accustomed to so little.  Once he was confident that Eggsy was sleeping, Harry kissed him softly and slipped out of bed, pulling on a dressing gown as he went. 

Going through his usual morning routine with Eggsy sleeping peacefully in his bed felt as right as Harry had always been sure it would.

He knew that it wouldn’t always be as easy as it could be between them- but he thought he was also safe in assuming that it wouldn’t always be as hard.  They had gone through more since they had known each other than Harry suspected many couples ever did.  He told Eggsy that he wouldn’t let him go without a fight and he meant it.  They were going to make this work; if the last few months had proven anything, it was that neither of them could bear it any other way.

And Eggsy had been right the night before- Harry lived a dangerous life.  Eggsy would too, if he succeeded today- and even if he didn’t he would never be ordinary.  It wasn’t an existence that lent itself to too much planning for the future.  The only thing that really mattered- the only thing that Harry thought would really matter until the day he died- was that Eggsy never doubt how much Harry loved him again.

So Harry went downstairs, made himself some coffee, and read the newspaper.  It was just like so many mornings Harry could recall- but the fact that Eggsy was up there, sleeping, happy… The knowledge that any time he wished Harry could go upstairs and kiss that boy awake… It was incredible.

Harry intended to let Eggsy sleep in, though.  He kept one eye on the clock, approximating how long Eggsy would likely need to get ready- but of course Lancelot pre-empted him.  He opened the door to find her on his doorstep with Eggsy’s training suit- pressed and clean- in her arms and a combative expression on her face. 

She looked him up and down and said, “About Eggsy-”

He put up a hand.  He didn’t doubt that Lancelot was a dangerous woman, but what Harry mostly felt when he saw the protective light in her eyes was warmth.  Gratitude.  “Before you go any further, let me say that I understand your desire to tell me that if I hurt Eggsy again you’ll kill me.  Truly, if I ever do, I would expect nothing less.”

“Well,” she said, looking mollified.  “That’s something, I suppose.”

Understanding reached, Harry stopped aside.  “Come in.  There’s coffee.”

She took a seat at his table and let him pour her a cup.  “Where is he?” she asked when he delivered it.

“Still asleep.  I’ll wake him.”  Harry rested his hand on the suit she brought.  “May I?”

Lancelot nodded.  It was the closest Harry thought he was likely to get- for a while at least- to a benediction. 

Harry lifted it up and made his way up the stairs, headed for the bedroom.  There he perched at the edge of the bed.  “Eggsy.”   He touched Eggsy’s shoulder lightly.  Eggsy had yet to lash out at him on waking, but he was careful all the same.

Eggsy woke gently though, murmuring, “Harry?”

“It’s time, dear one,” Harry told him. 

Eggsy only had one eye open and an uncertain curl to his lip when he said, “Am I gonna walk-of-shame through the final test in yesterday’s clothes?”

Harry laughed.  “No.  Lancelot brought you something.”  He patted the suit lying across his knees. 

Eggsy perked up a bit more.  “Rox is here?”

“She’s downstairs.”

“And you didn’t kill each other?”

“We… understand each other,” Harry said.  “Anything beyond that will have to wait for now- but I think in time…”

Eggsy looked pleased, then uncertain.  “If I fail…”

“I don’t believe you will- but if you do I won’t think less of you, and neither will Lancelot.  You won’t lose her, or any of the other friends that you’ve made- and I _know_ that you won’t lose me.  Whatever happens today, things will never go back to the way they were.”  He touched Eggsy’s hair lightly.  “I’m so happy for you.  And so glad of all the people who care for you.”

Eggsy pulled himself up suddenly, hugging Harry tight.  “You think they aren’t people who care for _you_?”

“I don’t know what…” Harry started and stopped.  None of them- not Merlin, not Pellinore, not Kay and the other knights who had done their part to get them to this point, not even Lancelot- would have done so much unless they wanted Harry to have this too.  “Fair point,” he said a moment later. 

“Harry,” Eggsy sighed out, vaguely reproving.  “You are silly.  I’m not the only one who loves you, you know.”

“And I love you,” Harry said, raising a hand to cradle the back of Eggsy’s head.  “And them.  And I just know how well you’ll do today.”    

Somewhere along the way Harry really had stopped thinking that Eggsy wouldn’t pass the final test.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be what Harry remembered it being.  Kingsman was indeed changing; maybe the need for unthinking obedience had changed too.  But whether the test was different or not, Harry had faith in Eggsy.  He would find a way.  He always did. 

For a moment more, Eggsy pressed his face into the crook of Harry’s neck, inhaling.  “You gonna still be here when I get finished?” Eggsy asked softly.   

“I was actually thinking I might go in to work for a bit,” Harry replied.  “But if I don’t see you there I would certainly like to see you back here again tonight.  And for the foreseeable future, if you’re amenable.” 

Eggsy had made what he was amenable to fairly clear.  It was a joke more than anything- but what wasn’t a joke was how Harry’s mind kept drifting back to the ring he had stowed back in his desk after their last (though hopefully also first in a long line) mission together.  The ring whose twin Harry could still see around Eggsy’s neck. 

It was too early for marriage proposals- particularly when Harry considered how many hiccups there had been between their first meeting and today- but if all went well that mission really would be one in a long line.  And Harry would finally be able to share his home with Eggsy- and one day soon he would offer to share his life too. 

Eggsy pulled away, grinning.  “What the hell do you think?” he asked.   

Harry smiled back, letting him go reluctantly.  “Shall I help you get dressed?” he asked. 

Eggsy’s grin widened, his cheeks flushing faintly.  “Why do I feel like that would be counterproductive?”

“Nonsense,” Harry said.  “I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”   

Eggsy looked doubtful, but after a trip to the bathroom he allowed it all the same.  He had done the pants himself by that time, but he let Harry do up his trousers and button and smooth his shirt, making sure everything was just so. 

Harry wanted to touch him as much as possible for as long as possible; it seemed Eggsy wanted the same.  

“How do I look?” Eggsy asked once Harry was finished. 

“Stunning,” Harry informed him.  The Kingsman training outfits were still ugly, but Eggsy- Eggsy would look beautiful whatever he wore.  “Like a knight.” 

Eggsy was grinning at Harry.  He jerked his chin toward the stairs.  “I’d better get down there, yeah?”

Harry nodded, but caught Eggsy’s hand at the last minute as he headed for the door.  “Eggsy-”

“Yeah?” Eggsy said, turning.

Harry tugged on Eggsy’s hand- pulling him into his arms and into a soft kiss.  Eggsy kissed him back, so tender and warm, and when Harry finally broke the kiss to press their foreheads together he was grinning delightedly.  As if, Harry thought, that was everything he had ever hoped for.  “Good luck, my darling,” Harry said, sliding his hands up to Eggsy’s chest. 

Eggsy frowned.  “Not coming downstairs to see me off?”

“Oh, I’ll see you off,” Harry growled.  “But under your sponsor’s watchful eye I think I’ll have to refrain from doing _this_.”  Harry kissed Eggsy again- as thoroughly as he was able.  He wanted to curl his darling boy’s toes, wanted Eggsy to feel the ghost of his lips and taste him on his palate for hours after.   

Eggsy clung to Harry’s shirtfront, and when Harry finally released him he whined: “How can you do a thing like that knowing I’m gonna hafta leave?”

“To remind you what you’re coming home to, of course,” Harry said. 

Eggsy growled softly and shoved Harry against the wall- nipping at Harry’s lower lip and sucking it into his mouth, and then pressing little half kisses all over the corners of his lips, waiting for Harry to try to catch him before he pulled away. 

Harry was breathless, and so much in love- but he still knew his line: “How can you do a thing like that knowing you have to leave?”

Eggsy’s eyes glinted.  “To remind you why you’re waiting,” he replied. 

*   *   *

Despite what he told Eggsy of his plans, Harry took his time going into work that morning.  He washed the dishes they had left in the sink and did some cleaning around the house; he did, as he had told Eggsy, have a maid- but Harry actually rather liked tidying up.  It relaxed him.

As relaxed as he could be on a day which would determine so much about his future, Harry dressed and headed in to work.

He entered through the shop and then went upstairs to the round table room, where Kay, now Arthur, was waiting for him. 

“Galahad,” Kay- Arthur, Harry still wasn’t quite used to that yet- said, looking up from his newspaper when he saw Harry.  “Good to see you looking so… well rested.”

Harry could hear the insinuation in his voice.  He knew, somehow, that Eggsy had gone to Harry the night before- and he had very strong suspicions as to what had occurred.  Harry knew he shouldn’t be surprised; Kingsman had a healthy humor mill, to say the least.  “I am,” he said.  “And I’ll be quite ready to return to work once all the empty seats have been filled.”

“Excellent,” Arthur said.  He took a sip of tea and didn’t say anything else.

 _Going to make me work for it, are you?_ Harry thought.  He knew he shouldn’t be surprised by that either.  Their new Arthur was a good man and he would be better than his predecessor in every conceivable way- but he still enjoyed playing with Harry just a little too much.  “Do you know how things are going?”

“Our three remaining candidates are taking their turns with Merlin now,” Arthur said.  “Hopefully this will all be decided within the hour.”

“Hopefully,” Harry agreed.

Arthur set his teacup down with a sigh.  “You know I hoped we would only have two by this point.  Tristan’s candidate has seen too many Bond movies.  He’ll choke, I just thought it would be before now.  It’s been between your boy and Percival’s candidate for a long time- in my mind at least.”

 _Really?_ Harry opened his mouth to say.  Before he could, Arthur cocked his head to one side, clearly receiving a message from Merlin.

“Ah,” he said, lips quirking faintly.  “There we are, then.”

Harry lifted an eyebrow. 

“Tristan’s candidate didn’t pass.  We’re sending him down to Merlin’s division to be a handler.  It’s a better fit for him; should mellow him out.”

Harry nodded.

“At this point it’s hardly fair to waive the other two tests.’

Harry understood that, but he still wondered- “What if only one of them passes?”

“Well, I could be accused of favoritism if I chose someone who had failed the final test to take my old position- but a little favoritism never hurt anyone.”

Harry just knew Arthur was talking about Eggsy.  “ _Is_ he a favorite of yours?”  Percival’s candidate was, Harry gathered, of Egyptian extraction- the first of his family to be born in the UK, and an all around good egg.  And as for Eggsy, well… Harry really was proud of him and the impression he had made on Kingsman- but he still felt a touch of possessiveness when he thought of someone else seeing everything he saw in Eggsy. 

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “If Kingsman is going to change we’ll need people like Eggsy- _and_ Percival’s candidate and our new Lancelot- to help make it happen.  And, well- you and Eggsy are incredible individually and even better side by side.  I intend to keep you that way for as long as possible.  After everything he’s been through with Kingsman I’m sure he’ll pass.  And I confess, I did make a few little changes.”

Harry doubted Arthur would tell him what those were. 

“Now,” Arthur said, taking another sip of tea.  “Shall we wrap up your last assignment to prepare for your next foray into the field?”

“Valentine, you mean?  Merlin briefed me on that several times, and Eggsy-”

Arthur rolled his eyes again.  “All right, your second-to-last mission.  The ring.  Most of the remaining members we knew about either lost their heads with the rest of Valentine’s allies or killed each other with their fancy weapons during the few moments the SIM cards were turned on.  I think we can safely consider that matter closed.”

Harry agreed.  “I gather people are coming out of the woodwork to balance out the power vacuums left by the loss of so much of organized crime.”

“Oh, certainly- Kingsman is busier than ever.  But it’s a new game board now.  Many of our old enemies have been wiped out.”

One old enemy sprang to Harry’s mind straightaway.  “What about Granby?” he asked.  “I don’t suppose he got blown up with the others.”

“No.”  Arthur sounded amused.  “But he did get himself thrown into solitary confinement just the day before, so I think he must have had some idea of what Valentine was doing with those SIM cards.” 

“He must have met him at some point, learned of his plans, introduced him to the ring.  And then remembered that a product he had sold to them once would be on Kingsman’s books, panicked and went after me.”  Harry laughed quietly to himself.  “And if it hadn’t been for his involvement, I might never have met Eggsy.”

“Among other things,” Arthur said.  His look of amusement grew.  “Why?  Would you like to thank him?”

“He’s under high security, I take it?”

“The highest.  Most governments are… very jumpy, after what happened.  As you say, there are a great many vacuums to be filled.  They’re hoping to limit the damage.”

“Then I believe I’ll leave him to it.”

Arthur chuckled.  “You may be learning to let go yet,” he said. 

“Maybe,” Harry agreed.

Arthur never did receive another update about the final tests.  Harry had some tea and eventually took his leave, finding himself rather at loose ends while he waited for news.

He was still making up his mind about what to do when Merlin contacted him over the glasses.  "Cleared for duty again, are you?" was Merlin's hello.

"Officially," Harry replied.  "Why?  Do you have something for me?"  He really was looking forward to going back into the field again, but he hated to think it would be so soon.

"Not at all," Merlin said.  "I was simply curious."

"Aren't you meant to be testing the remaining candidates, not indulging your curiosity?"

"I'm between tests at the moment," Merlin sniffed.  "And entirely capable of doing both at once."  It was clear to Harry that Merlin didn't intend to tell him the results of the test he had just finished.  Perhaps he wanted to let Eggsy give Harry the news, since they were all so sure it would be good.  "And what are _you_ up to?"

"Very little at the moment," Harry admitted. 

"You could head to the shop," Merlin suggested.  "They've gotten rather used to having Pellinore around, but he's gone back home and now they're a trifle short-handed."

Harry smiled.  That sounded like Merlin telling him something after all.  Pellinore wouldn't have left unless matters with Eggsy had been resolved to his satisfaction.  "Very good, Merlin," he said.  "Thank you."  He meant for a thousand things, none of which were the order to go act like a tailor for a while.  

Merlin gave a grunt of assent and broke the connection.  Harry's smile only widened.  Merlin had never been good at that sort of thing.

Harry did as instructed and went to the shop, where Dagonet put him to work reorganizing a tie display.  That was what Harry was doing when a small child collided with his legs.  She was the one who overbalanced, of course, and Harry caught and righted her as best he could. 

“I’m so sorry,” someone said, and Harry froze.  He would know that voice anywhere. 

He lifted his eyes and looked at Eggsy’s mother, his fingers still brushing over Eggsy’s sister’s coat as he made sure she stayed upright.  “It’s quite all right,” he managed to say.  This was one thing he hadn’t thought about in all his visions of future that might await him and Eggsy: meeting his mother.  The part of Harry that always remained cool in a crisis wondered if Merlin had known Michelle was here and sent him to the shop for that reason.  The rest of Harry just panicked a little. 

She blinked, recognizing him as well. 

“Are you here to see Eggsy?” Harry asked before she could speak. 

“More just visiting the shop, really,” she replied.  “Eggsy’s so busy I haven’t much of him lately, but the tailors let me know how things are going.” 

The tailors wouldn’t tell Michelle anything secret, Harry knew- but she probably suspected what Eggsy was really doing or planning to do for Kingsman.  Harry hadn’t thought much about how that would make her feel, but he suspected it wasn’t good.  It was lucky that the tailors were looking out for her; Harry would have to thank them for that.  Not that he thought it had anything to do with him, of course- Eggsy was one of their own, and the only one so far to have a shot at becoming a Kingsman.

Probably they were very proud.  Harry knew Pellinore was.

“You’ll be seeing him again soon,” Harry assured her.  Once Eggsy was finished with the trials, one way or another, he would certainly check in with his family. 

Michelle nodded, examining him with narrowed eyes.  “I know who you are, you know.”  

Harry bent his head.  “I am so very sorry about your husband.”

Michelle grunted, finally relieving him of the child.  “I suppose you are.”  She picked her daughter up.  “But I wasn’t talking about that.  I was talking about what’s between you and my son.”

“How… how did you know that we-”

She ticked off points on her fingers.  “Him spending his time with someone who made an impression on a lot of people- including my ex-husband- and then getting a job for tailors who weren’t really just tailors.  Him being a right mess for months.  You here with a fresh scar.  Honestly it’s not that hard to put it all together.”

“I see.”  Harry had long known better than to underestimate Eggsy.  Now he would know not to underestimate Michelle either. 

She let out a long breath.  “When I realized my son was falling for someone, I was worried about him.  He liked to think I didn’t know what he was doing to make money for us- for _me_ \- but I did.”

“If it’s any consolation, I was never properly a customer.”

“But you were paying him.  To help you or spend time with you or whatever.”

Harry nodded slowly. 

Michelle’s lips flattened out.  “Did you think you were somehow making amends for what happened with his father by helping him out like that?”

This time Harry was at least half expecting the question.  This time he wasn’t too shocked to answer it.  “No.  No, I had no idea who he was when I met him.”

“How many boys called Eggsy did you think you was gonna meet?”

Harry hung his head.  “Let me assure you, there is no negligence you could accuse me of where my relationship to your son- in either capacity- is concerned that I have not already blamed myself for a hundred fold.”

She just watched him in silence for a long moment.  She had the look of an avenging angel about her, slightly marred by the child playing with her hair.  “I guess that’s probably true,” she said at last.  She was silent for another moment, then, “There were a lot of things I coulda done for my boy that I just… didn’t.”

“You did the best that you could in-”

Her eyes narrowed.  “Let me take some responsibility for the choices I made.  I’m a grown woman.”

Harry considered that.  She was a grown woman who was not to blame for her second husband’s behavior, or for the extent of the financial trouble her family had ended up in. 

But perhaps for now she needed to carry that weight.  Perhaps it drove her the way Harry’s guilt over what happened to Lee- which Harry was beginning to realize had never truly been his fault, because Lee had made his own choice that day, and though Harry would have made it differently he could hardly change it now, and how could he when it had brought him _here_ \- drove him.  Perhaps she needed to realize the truth in her own time. 

Harry nodded. 

“Well,” she said.  “I think that- for his sake- I could learn to like you.”

Harry swallowed heavily.  “Thank you,” he said.  He couldn't have meant it more.  For all he hadn't let himself imagine meeting Eggsy's mother- first because he had never been introduced to someone's parent in that way and simply couldn't picture it, and then later because he had been so sure it would be disastrous- he really had felt an affection for her after everything Eggsy had told him.  He wanted her to like him.  He liked her. 

She nodded jerkily.  “Good.  Well- give him my love, will you?  And tell him he can bring you with him.  If he likes.”

“All right.”

Michelle nodded once more, improved her grip on the little girl, and left.   

Harry was still deciding just what had hit him when the phone he had slipped into his pocket that morning- the one he still thought of as Eggsy’s- rang.  He answered with, “Your mother sends her love.”

“Uh-oh,” Eggsy said. 

Harry laughed.  “It’s all right.  She came by the shop.  It was a… thorny first meeting, I’ll grant you, but it could certainly have been worse.  She’d like you to come and see her when you can.  I’m invited.”

“Wow,” Eggsy said.  “So you two… you could get along?  I was worried, what with the whole thing with my dad.” 

“I think your mother and I could manage almost anything for you,” Harry said.  There was a pause- Eggsy taking that in, Harry supposed- and Harry finally said, “But enough about us.  How are you?”

“I’m good.  I guess you can call me Kay now, anyway.”

Harry really had thought the title of Gawain would suit Eggsy- but Kay felt even better somehow, like they had come full circle since the day he walked into Eggsy's life.  He was glad it had fallen out that way, just as their new Arthur had clearly predicted it would.  “I’m glad,” Harry said.  It felt like such a titanic understatement, but surely Eggsy would hear that much in his voice.  In the background, Harry heard a faint barking, and then Eggsy negotiating with a dog.  His dog, Harry assumed.  He had seen JB once or twice, but they had yet to properly meet.  Eggsy sounded so happy, talking to him.  He sounded so happy period.   

Harry's fingers brushed along the edge of the phone and he smiled.  Soon Eggsy would have glasses of his own and be able to talk with Harry that way.  Harry couldn't wait. 

"Well, Agent Kay," he said.  “There’s something I forgot to ask you this morning.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you permit me to take you to dinner?  Perhaps tomorrow night?”

Eggsy laughed- or perhaps giggled was more what he did.  It wasn’t very Kingsman-like, Harry had to admit- but he had rarely heard a sound he liked better.  “You wanna wine and dine me? After all this?”

“It’s simply something I realized I haven’t properly done,” Harry said.  “Taken you out on a real date, that is.  Just you and me, as ourselves this time.  And then after that I really will teach you how to make a proper martini.”

“That sounds like fun,” Eggsy said.  It sounded like that was as much an understatement to him as _I'm glad_ had been to Harry.  But then his tone turned teasing.  "And who's going to pay for this dinner?"

"Well."  Frankly, Harry was a little choked up, thinking about how far they had come.  "Since I'm inviting you, it seems only right that _I_..."

“Yeah," Eggsy said.  " _Yeah_.  As long as _I_ get to take _you_ out the time after that."

"Eggsy," Harry said.  "I can honestly say there's nothing I would like more."

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [tumblr](http://potentiality-26.tumblr.com/).


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